The Witcher: Black and White
by Code-name CERBERUS
Summary: Before Cirilla, Geralt took in a protege from a poor family of peasants and raised him to become a Witcher. 25 years later, Marvo is taken before two legendary sorceresses Yennefer of Vengerberg and Triss Merigold to receive the most challenging contract of his career, to find the Witcher of Rivia before an order of Knights finds him first.
1. Surprise

The Witcher: Black and White

Surprise

The tall man with long white hair, slits for eyes, yellow irises, and a scar running down his left eye stared at the young couple standing before him. He studied every inch of them, how they dressed, how they spoke, what they said. Everything was a crucial detail in his profession.

"You put up the notice about the contract?" the Witcher spoke in a deep gravelly voice.

Iain; the owner of the house, nodded. "We've had some trouble recently."

The Witcher glanced around their humble home. "With what, exactly?"

Iain glanced down at the rough wood floor. "We don't know. Only I saw it, it was big, scaly, and looked like the offspring of a chicken and a lizard." he explained.

The Witcher nodded. "Cockatrice. You're lucky to be alive. Don't usually spare people."

Iain looked back at his wife, who was clearly worried. "You know how to kill it, right?"

"I do. Stay here, don't venture outside at all until I return." the Witcher said.

The Witcher turned around and walked out, his two swords dangling from a leather strap on his back.

/

Deep inside the forest near where Iain and his wife's home was, Geralt searched around for the dreaded Cockatrice. As he walked, Geralt's sharp senses searched the ground below him for cave systems, a Cockatrice's favorite hiding spot. Suddenly, he stopped. Looking down, he spotted a pair of massive three toed prints in the dirt.

Geralt knelt down. "Too big for an average Cockatrice. This one's been around a while." he said to himself.

Standing back up, Geralt glanced around him along the path. The treeline was thick and the underbrush didn't help visibility either. Luckily, he didn't need his eyes, he had his ears. Focusing his ears into a direct beam, Geralt picked up sounds no ordinary human could. He sensed the smallest of the mice scampering about, the call of a wolf four miles away, and the sound of an old Cockatrice right behind him.

In a split second, Geralt drew his sword of silver and dove to the ground and rolled out of the Cockatrice's range. He spun himself around to face the creature. It's beak was cracked and splintering and it was covered in scars from years of being hunted. It's breath was labored and it had an uncomfortable demeanor. The Cockatrice hacked and something spilled from it's beak and onto the dirt path.

"What's the matter? Ate something you didn't like?" Geralt taunted.

The Cockatrice lunged forward and Geralt sidestepped it's attack. As it passed, Geralt ran his sword down it's side, cutting it open. The Cockatrice screamed and turned again for another attack.

Geralt braced for another headlong assault but instead of doing that, the Cockatrice turned and slammed it's tail into Geralt. Geralt went sprawling to the ground and his silver sword toppled away from his grasp and reach.

The Cockatrice advanced on the grounded Witcher but Geralt turned over on his back a fired a blast of Aard into it's ugly mug. The creature fell backwards, giving the Witcher time to retrieve his weapon. He picked it up and was ready to defend himself just as the Cockatrice launched another attack upon him.

Geralt crouched and plunged his sword into the Cockatrice's belly as it flew over him. It landed hard on it's twisted face, finally shattering it's cracked beak. The creature gave out a wail of pain as Geralt stood up and walked over to the creature's abnormally large head. It's dark eyes looked up at the silver haired man.

"Nice try, ugly." Geralt of Rivia said as he plunged his sword into the neck of the Cockatrice.

In a spurt of dark blood, the Cockatrice began to seize wildly before settling down and dying. Geralt sighed, wiped the sweat from his brow and the blood from his blade. Drawing a silver knife, Geralt carved himself a trophy in the form of a massive Cockatrice talon.

Walking back to Iain's homestead, Geralt was soon greeted by his trusted and only companion, his horse Roach. Actually, Geralt had no idea which Roach this was, he had had so many he lost count. Every horse was Roach to him. Roach was a chestnut mare and as loyal as any beast was.

Geralt slung the Cockatrice talon over Roach's saddle and continued to the homestead. They soon reached the clearing that housed the small homely cabin where Iain and his wife were waiting. His senses detected the scent of potatoes, onions, garlic, carrots, and beef. Soup.

Geralt opened the door to the cabin's interior and Iain jumped up from the rough wooden table and bench.

"Master Witcher! Did you slay the creature?" Iain asked.

Geralt nodded. "Put up a fight, but it's dead."

Iain sighed. "Thank the gods." he said happily.

"Now about my reward." Geralt said bluntly.

Iain looked up at Geralt grimly. "Master Witcher, please forgive us but we have nothing to offer you in compensation."

Geralt's golden eyes narrowed at Iain, then at Iain's wife. "If you haven't gold to pay me, I invoke the Law of Surprise."

Iain looked back at his wife in confusion. "Master Witcher, what is this Law?"

"It is an alternate form of payment. You don't possess gold as a reward so I shall request that which you have but do not expect." Geralt explained.

"We have nothing like that." Iain said.

Geralt shook his head. "Not entirely true. I will return in a year for your child." he said as he turned and left.

Iain turned back to his wife in shock. "Child?"

His wife was even more shocked. "How? How did he know?"

/

As promised, Geralt returned a year later and sure enough there he was. A boy, a healthy baby boy and his parents knew from the start, they'd have to give him up and they did. So, off Geralt went with his new ward. He had been informed of the child's name, Marvo. Geralt decided to take the child to Kaer Morhen to train him to become a Witcher.


	2. Kaer Morhen

The Witcher: Black and White

Kaer Morhen

Under the guidance of the Witchers Geralt and Vesemir, Marvo quickly excelled in physical combat and in intellectual studies. He read cover to cover every bestiary in Kaer Morhen's extensive library and destroyed nearly every practice dummy they had. He had also come to enjoy Vesemir's company. The old Witcher provided fresh outlooks on topics he hadn't heard of so naturally Marvo enjoyed the sessions of study.

Now, Marvo had been at Kaer Morhen a full decade. He had endured everything the Witchers ordered an now it was time for him to join their ranks. He and 30 or so boys were lined up in a dark cave and administered herbs and chemicals. Several began convulsing and collapsed to the stone floor.

Marvo's body seared with excruciating pain but he fought through it as he had been trained to do by Geralt. It was only after the first part of the Trial did he realize Geralt's absence. He heard Vesemir say that this was the last time they'd do the Trial of the Grasses. Whether this was true remained to be seen.

When it was over, Marvo and four others remained standing, ready to become Witchers. These other four were Wigro, Arnley, Evyn, and Salac. They'd soon bond over their survival of the Trial and fight on the field of battle as brothers.

The four new Witchers in training exited the dark cave only to be met by Vesemir and another Witcher Marvo hadn't seen before. He had a long leather jerkin and two swords over his shoulder. His hair was white like Geralt's and his eyes were as black as night with no irises or pupils. Around his neck was the medallion of the Cat. Vesemir commanded their attention as he spoke.

"Soon, you will be Witchers. You will enter the world with the skills needed to take on the spawn of the Conjunction. Like your friends in that cave, it is likely you will not survive, but I have what faith I have left in you." he said.

The four boys glanced at each other, not very assured by their leader's words.

Vesemir continued, gesturing to the man beside him. "This is Sonfrith of Cintra of the School of the Cat. We here at Kaer Morhen have brought him to teach you the fine prints of being a Witcher, listen to him and for your sake, don't disobey him."

Vesemir stepped away, leaving Sonfrith with the boys. "The School of the Wolf is weak, understaffed," Sonfrith said in a raspy tone. "The Cats and Wolves never saw eye to eye but I've made an exception for an old friend. You will train day and night, you will only eat and sleep when I allow it. If you complain, you'll receive the worst beating you've ever had. Do you understand, boys?"

Marvo spoke up. "We do, Master Witcher." he said.

Sonfrith frowned faintly and crossed his arms. "Don't be so sure, you haven't begun yet."

Marvo, Wigro, Arnley, Evyn, and Salac were put through far more grueling exercises than Vesemir could ever fathom. Some months later, Marvo thought about why Geralt was gone from Kaer Morhen. Geralt's absence made some sense, he was a Witcher and was constantly moving.

Since Sonfrith wasn't part of the School of the Wolf, he was not bound by their code and guidelines. He treated the young Wolves like he would young Cats, beating them if they made the slightest mistake or if their footwork was not on par with his expectations. They all grew to hate their trainer but he couldn't care less. He took pleasure in reminding them they'd probably die on their first day as Witchers. It was little wonder the School of the Cat was filled with psychotic monsters.

/

 **5 Years Later…**

By the time Marvo had been at Kaer Morhen for a good 15 years, he was a fully fledged Witcher. His hair, however had remained the same dark brown that it always was. His eyes changed from green to gold and his pupils turned into slits. His senses were sharp and he was adept in combat. It had been a full five years since he had seen Geralt and the thought of them had since left Marvo's mind. Even Sonfrith had somewhat lightened up after being at Kaer Morhen for some time, but not much.

One odd day; however, all the Witchers in Kaer Morhen were called to the courtyard in front of the main gate. A man in long silk robes stood there waiting for them.

Vesemir was the first to the Courtyard and he addressed the visitor personally. "Who are you and why are you here?" he demanded.

The man bowed respectfully. "I am Andred Lunworth and I represent the Kingdom of Redania." he said.

Vesemir crossed his arms as the other Witchers arrived in the Courtyard.

"What does the Redanians want with us, does your king have a contract he wishes us to fulfill?"

Andred shook his head. "Hardly. I've come with a warning. King Radovid hold a deep hatred for all things nonhuman and has declared the abomination known as Witchers to be nonhuman. He has banded together a group of the most famous and skilled knights from Redania to Kaedwen led by Sir Adius Turnican. They bring a force of a hundred infantry and shall be here within a month."

"Why give us a warning, Redanian?" Marvo asked.

"Because, you Witchers are grossly outnumbered. A surprise attack by the newly formed Knights of Roshytta would be dishonorable. Good day to you." Andred said with a bow.

Andred turned to leave and walked out through the main gate just as calmly as he walked in. Vesemir turned to his fellow Witchers.

"Well, shit." he said under his breath.


	3. The Knights of Roshytta

The Witcher: Black and White

The Knights of Roshytta

Andred's warning was valid. In a month's time, a small army appeared at the gates, all infantry and a handful of bowmen. From atop the ramparts, Vesemir peered down at the force below. Despite the circumstances, he was confident in his chances, seven professional monster killers versus a hundred or so boys in cheap armor. Fish in a barrell.

Vesemir returned to the Courtyard where Marvo, Sonfrith and the other Witchers waited for the fighting to commence. They weren't the least bit worried, probably that emotion was drained from them long ago but nevertheless.

"What's the odds, Vesemir?" asked Sonfrith.

Vesemir chuckled. "100 to one, our favor. They're just boys. These Knights of Roshytta are grossly underfunded."

"Perhaps underestimating them is unwise." piped up Evyn.

"Evyn, what did I tell you about overestimating?" Vesemir asked.

Evyn gave a short respectful bow. "My apologies, Master Vesemir."

Vesemir drew his steel sword. "We don't have Geralt here, but we don't need 'im. We have seven Witchers here! Kill 'em all!"

The Witchers drew their swords and sprinted at inhuman speeds across the Courtyard and to the gates. They knew the bridge was the only way the Knights of Roshytta would be able to enter Kaer Morhen so they'd just meet them on the wrong side.

Unlike what the soldiers expected, the Witchers burst through the gates and met the soldiers head on. A hail of bolts from crossbows came down upon them, only to be slapped aside by a well timed Quen by them all. They broke their Quens and again charged forward. They smashed into the first line of soldiers who were already on the bridge.

Vesemir, Sonfrith, Marvo, Wigro, Arnley, Evyn, and Salac effortlessly cut down twenty or so with their combined skill. The terrified line of soldiers retreated back to where the crossbowmen and a group of five men on horses were. Marvo figured these men were the great warriors Andred spoke of.

All but one had full faced steel helmet, making their faces impossible to see, but the last wore no helmet. He had long black hair and was clean shaven, His armor, like his companions probably cost a fortune and was custom made. This one had to be Adius Turnican.

Turnican raised one arm in the air and ordered another wave of bolts to be fired. Reluctantly, the bowmen fired, hitting a handful of their own retreating men. A a few of their bolts reached the Witchers and were blocked by Quen. Except one. A single bolt was too quick even for the Cat; Sonfrith. It reached him before his Quen went up and lodged itself into his neck.

Sonfrith fell to the wooden bridge and Marvo stepped in front of him with his Quen to block the rest of the bolts from reaching his trainer. Sonfrith fought to his feet and picked up his sword.

"Have at thee!" Sonfrith shouted waving his arms like wings.

Adius' face turned foul and he turned to his fellow knights, exchanging a few words. Then, they turned to the forest surrounding Kaer Morhen and retreated. The beaten soldiers quickly followed in their steps. When it was over, nearly half their force had been decimated and only Sonfrith was injured.

Sonfrith; with both hands, pulled the bolt out of his neck. He was in great pain but Marvo was sure Vesemir had a potion or two for that. When they returned to the Courtyard, Vesemir addressed his Witcher comrades.

"What we did shows the child King Radovid that we are a small force, aye. But a force to be reckoned with all the same! Although, they know our numbers and they're return," Vesemir turned to Sonfrith. "Take the remaining horses and ride to Aedern. Hopefully the Redanians will break off the closer you get to Nilfgaard."

Sonfrith nodded. "To me, Witchers. We shall decide your titles along the way! Come!"

Marvo was right on Sonfrith's heels along with the other Witchers. They didn't know what Vesemir was going to do on his own, but he was confident in his master's determination.

They rode out that afternoon. They didn't stop till they were miles from Kaer Morhen. Then the next morning they were riding again, always at a brisk pace. For months, they kept that going until they passed the Pontar and reached Aedern. There, they'd finally take on their roles as Witchers.


	4. Nightwraith

The Witcher: Black and White

Nightwraith

 **6 Months Later…**

Under the guidance of Sonfrith, the band of Witchers, Marvo, Wigro, Arnley, Evyn, and Salac had been on the road south for six months. On the road they had all chosen their titles. Their new titles were Marvo of Claremont, Wigro of Vizima, Arnley of Thurn, Salac of Lyria, and Evyn of Rivia. Evyn was obviously the least creative of the group.

Of course they were weary of the journey but between Kaer Morhen and the Nilfgaardian Empire's territory was plenty of towns, inns, taverns, games of gwent, and of course wenches.

Marvo's comrades had indulged in the sexual acts with stray women but he had not. Not that he had pledged celibacy, but he saw no honor in bedding whores, only someone who truly loved him would he bed. But on this particular night, they were in neither tavern or inn but along the roadside. While their horses grazed on the grass surrounding them, the Witchers rested.

All except Marvo, who had volunteered to watch the horses. It was midnight, and they were in a field. Perfect kill for a nightwraith. As the moon floated directly above his head, Marvo heard a loud wail. From the tall grass of the hay field, the glowing figure of a woman's corpse elevated. She darted her rotted head around and saw the six horses.

The nightwraith levitated towards the horses and Marvo of Claremont took off towards the creature. He was there in a matter of moments and his silver sword was out in front of him. The nightwraith turned in his direction and gave a ear shattering shriek. Marvo shielded his ears to little success. The nightwraith advanced and Marvo instinctively let down a Yrden. The purple orbs appeared all around him in a circle and the nightwraith became trapped in it.

Marvo slashed at the nightwraith's midsection which only succeeded in pissing it off. With Yrden still activated, Marvo swung again. This time at the monster's head. Before the blow landed, Yrden fizzled away and the nightwraith was engulfed in a billow of mist and was gone.

Marvo stood his ground, his senses still searching for any sign of the nightwraith. Suddenly, the billow appeared again and out from it came the nightwraith. Marvo spun around and drove his sword down it's agape mouth. The creature went limp and burst into a greenish flame before disappearing.

The Witcher sheathed his sword and took a sigh of relief. He was ultimately glad he was still awake, although he was confident someone had heard the commotion. When he returned to the campsite, Sonfrith was the only one awake, standing, staring into the smolders of the fire.

"Nightwraith, was it?" he asked as Marvo reached the campsite.

"It was. It's gone now." Marvo replied.

"Ah, but did you find an item binding it's soul to this field?" Sonfrith said as he turned from the pile of burned logs.

Marvo sighed again. "No, I did not."

Sonfrith made a gruff noise. "I thought you'd read every volume of Vesemir's bestiaries."

"I did, I must've forgotten that detail." Marvo said defensively.

"'Must've forgotten?!" Sonfrith said, the annoyance in his voice rising. He took long bold steps towards Marvo until they were inches from each other . "Witchers don't forget things! They slay creatures with efficiency, not flailing your silver sword willy nilly. Stupid cunt." he muttered as he returned to his spot by the fire.

Marvo knew the Cat of Cintra hated him but for what, he didn't know. All he knew was that the nightwraith would return the next night. But by then, they'd be gone.

/

Marvo awoke the next morning to find everyone else already saddling their horses. They hadn't bothered to wake him up. Marvo jumped to his feet and grabbed the saddle that was lying beside him.

Marvo ran to his mount and began putting the saddle on it. "Why didn't someone wake me?" he asked the nearest Witcher.

Evyn spoke up. "Sonfrith told us you battled a nightwraith last night. So, whilst you slept, we scoured the field and found the object binding the spirit."

"And? What was it?" Marvo asked.

"A locket with the image of the woman and a husband or betrothed." Evyn replied.

"Ah, probably murdered by the man and left to roam the field till we came along." Marvo said.

Evyn finished saddling the horse and turned back to the group. Turning to Marvo again he said one last thing. "I heard Sonfrith scolding you in the night. What was that about?"

Marvo waved his hand. "I just overlooked a detail about the wraith. It wasn't really important."

"You forgot to look for the object, did you not?" Evyn questioned.

"Maybe." Marvo shrugged.

"Hmm." Evyn said before once again turning off towards the group.

Marvo soon finished saddling the brown mare he took from the Kaer Morhen stables and made his way over to the other Witchers, including Sonfrith, who was kneeling on the ground as if he was meditating, but Marvo knew he was not.

When Sonfrith saw Marvo approaching, he gave him a crude look. Marvo still did not understand why he was the target of Sonfrith's constant supply of anger. Sonfrith stood up and addressed the group.

"It is time you all head off in separate directions." Sonfrith said. "We've been on the road half a year and the Knights of Roshytta are no closer to finding us in this part of the Continent. It's safe to assume that you can no go about doing your contracts as actual Witchers. So, say your goodbyes. Most likely some of you will be dead soon enough." he finished, giving Marvo one last look.

Sonfrith turned from the group, mounted his horse and took off towards the north. Probably heading back towards Kaer Morhen. Marvo, Wigro, Arnley, Evyn, and Salac exchanged their goodbyes like they were told and they all mounted and rode off in separate directions.

Marvo didn't know where his comrades were going but he himself was heading farther south to Vengerberg in hopes of finding contracts. He rode the entire day, rested the entire night and was up and riding before the sun rose. After three days travel, he arrived in the capital of Aedern, Vengerberg.

Vengerberg wasn't in King Radovid's domain so he; a Witcher, was as welcome here as could ever be. Geralt had told Marvo in his youth that his greatest love; Yennefer, lived in the city as the youngest member of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers.

As the young Witcher rode into the bustling city, he noticed people relatively ignorant to his presence. This was a far cry to the north whereas if a Witcher happened upon a town or city, everyone knew in a matter of moments. Soon, Marvo came across a notice board. A common occurrence in settlements that allowed inhabitants to post notices, announcements, and what he was especially looking for, contracts.

Marvo dismounted his horse beside the notice board and quickly scanned the pieces of paper tacked to it. Most of it was garbage. A newborn here, a rise in tax there. Only one caught his eye. A short letter telling of a noble on the outskirts of the city with a creature trapped in his cellar with the want to rid himself of it. Marvo smirked and tore the paper from the board.


	5. What Looms in the Dark?

The Witcher: Black and White

What Looms in the Dark?

Marvo rode with haste to the manor of which the notice spoke up. He had to admit, the prospect of his first contract excited him ever so slightly. The road that led him to the noble's home winded sharply to the point where Marvo had absolutely no sense of direction. The only thing he did have was directions and the scent of expensive Toussaint wine.

He eventually came upon the front gates of the manor. The sprawling, intricate iron works of the gate seemed to Marvo intriguing to look at but relatively unnecessary. Pushing the gate open, Marvo led his horse down the trodden road to sizeable abode of a well set nobleman.

The manor seemed four to five stories in height and 60 meters in length. The path forked around a marble fountain portraying a pair of mermaids. The manor's front door was elevated by a set of wide stairs.

The front door opened and a servant in a red silk jerkin stepped out. He gave a short bow and beckoned the Witcher to follow as he turned back to the door. The Witcher obliged. Tethering his horse to a post and ascending the steps to the door. Again the servant stepped out to greet him.

"Witcher, I am Liam. I serve Lord Theod. I assume you are here about the contract?" Liam asked.

Marvo nodded. "Why else would a Witcher come to your door?"

Liam scoffed. "Indeed. Follow." he replied.

Liam led Marvo into the sprawling and rich manor. Every inch was decorated in such a way that gave off a sense of purpose and elegance unachieved by commoner huts and homes. To Marvo, every trinket and bauble was in it's place for a reason. Put there for the purpose of invoking thought like it had with Marvo.

They soon reached the dining room. At one end of the long birch table was the entryway and on the other was a wide hearth with a blazing fire. Sitting at the end of the table, silhouetted by the flame was who Marvo assumed was Lord Theod.

Liam bowed before his master. "Lord Theod, the Witcher is here to see you."

Lord Theod rose from the table and walked to where Marvo and Liam were standing. The man was of middle age and looked as if he hadn't done a single day of hard work in his entire life. Even the lords in the north proved their mettle one way or another.

Lord Theod looked Marvo up and down. "I won't be mistaken in assuming you read the notice?"

"No, Lord Theod. You wouldn't be." Marvo said.

"Good. I have a problem with a creature in the wine cellar. When I discovered it down there, I quickly locked the door and had it barred. Every night it wailed incessantly and it scares away guests and potential suitors. I want it dead, understand?"

"It wails at night," Marvo thought a moment. "Do the wails sound female?"

Lord Theod nodded.

"Damn. Nightwraith, then." Marvo said.

Marvo walked to the nearest window and checked the sun's positioning. Sighing he said. "It's too early. The wraith won't appear until night. I might have to stay here a while if it isn't an inconvenience."

Lord Theod shook his head. "Not at all. We've some wine out from the cellar, would you care for some whilst you wait?"

Marvo thought, it didn't seem like a good idea but it would still be a while before the wraith would appear. Hopefully by then, his advanced metabolism would burn the alcohol away.

"Yes, I believe I will share a drink." Marvo said.

Marvo was sat at the birch table beside Lord Theod. They were brought many different wines with many unpronounceable names. Marvo; out of courtesy for his host, made sure he sampled them all at least once. By the time most of them were sampled, Marvo felt himself becoming tipsy even as his mutations started to kick in.

Liam placed a single glass in front of him with a brown liquid inside. Marvo tried to wave it away, thinking it would send his toxicity over the edge but Lord Theod made sure he drank it. It tasted like regular brandy but something about it was off. It was odd and made him feel strange.

Marvo stood up from the table and staggered forward only to fall to one knee.

Lord Theod stood from his seat to assist the Witcher. "It is only mid afternoon, sir Witcher. Perhaps you should wait it off a while?"

Marvo burped and nodded. "Yeah, probably."

Marvo was allowed to sit on the dining room floor until he felt a little better. When his senses told him that midnight was nigh, he stood up, no longer that drunk. He walked through the house and found Liam standing in the parlor staring at a painting of a young woman in an elegant dress on the arm of a strong looking young man.

Marvo stepped up beside the servant. "Who is she?"

"Lady Angella, Lord Theod's daughter, and her husband Lord Coylan." Liam answered.

"Strange, I haven't seen a hint Lord Theod had offspring around here." Marvo said.

"She married off some time ago. We here haven't seen her since. Lord Theod does still receive letters from her home in Novigrad."

Marvo took a look at the painting. The woman, maybe 16 or 17 had long black hair and blue eyes. Her skin was fair as fair could be but she didn't seem to happy about the man standing beside her.

"Where is Lord Theod now? I need to get into the cellar." Marvo said.

Liam didn't answer for a moment. "He's waiting by the cellar door. The wraith began moaning just a few minutes ago."

Marvo thanked him and walked down a flight of stairs to the large cellar entrance where, sure enough, Lord Theod was waiting. He was wearing a nightshirt and loose trousers. Lord Theod turned when he heard the footsteps echo down the corridor.

"Witcher, it's in there now." Lord Theod said.

As he said that, a loud wail of a female pierced the silence. Lord Theod became quite frightened but Marvo managed to hold the fear in.

"I'm going in." Marvo took a step towards the door.

"Be careful, Master Witcher." Lord Theod replied, stepping out of the way so Marvo could go in.

Marvo opened the door and stepped inside the dark room. He would have to rely on his superior senses to guide him. He closed his eyes and the wraith wailed again, giving him the perfect outline of it's demonic form. The wraith; instead of charging him like regular nightwraiths, backed itself into a corner and screamed louder.

Marvo unsheathed his silver sword and advanced on the wraith. His sight on the wraith became fuzzy as he felt a strange feeling come over him. He quickened his step and slashed for the wraith's neck. As the blade went through, he heard a gush of blood and he knew something was wrong. He couldn't do anything about is seeing as how as soon as he killed it, he blacked out.

Marvo awoke the next morning in a pool of blood. He felt the blood and began feeling himself for inflicted wounds he couldn't see. When he found none, he began looking around the dark cellar. He saw nothing on his left side but on his right was a severed head of a woman.

Marvo jumped to his feet and saw the entire mess. The wraith was no wraith at all, but a human woman trapped in the cellar. Another look at the head told him it was the girl from the painting in the parlor, Lord Theod's own daughter.

Marvo was at first confused, then angry. He turned to the cellar door and stormed out, still soaked in Lady Angella's blood. He ascended the steps where Liam and Lord Theod were waiting. Lord Theod took a single step towards Marvo.

"Witcher, you survived."

Marvo punched the Lord in the mouth, sending him to the floor. Liam took a step forward in defense of his master but Marvo put a hand on the hilt of his steel sword, making him back away slowly.

Lord Theod spit out blood and a tooth. "What the fuck, you dumb mutant!?" he screamed.

"You drugged me, made me kill you own daughter. Why!?" Marvo shouted.

Lord Theod got back to his feet. "That's of no concern of yours. Your contract was kill the creature in the cellar, now it's done! Get the hell out!" he barked.

Marvo punched the wicked man in the gut and shoved him to the floor while Liam looked on.

"Why!?" Marvo asked again, enraged.

Lord Theod sighed. "I betrothed her to a young lord from Novigrad but she refused. I found out she made plans to run off with her lover." Lord Theod looked past Marvo at Liam. Liam looked away with shame. "So, I locked her in the cellar to wait it out until she came around to the idea of marrying Lord Coylan, she told me she'd rather die."

"So you hired me to kill your daughter."

"You know nothing of family, yours abandoned you to be tortured by freaks! You're nothing but the monsters you kill for a living!" Lord Theod yelled.

Marvo withdrew his steel sword. "Whatever I am, I'm still better than you."

Marvo swung his sword over his head and brought it down on Lord Theod's cranium. It broke in two and a river of blood and brains poured out onto the expensive carpet. He then wrenched the sword from his body and wiped Theod off of it.

Marvo turned and looked at the petrified Liam. "You're Angella's lover?"

Liam nodded.

"Go. Bury her with dignity." Marvo ordered. "Then leave this manor and never come back."

Liam turned and ran off towards the cellar while Marvo sheathed his sword and calmly walked out of the accursed manor.


	6. Pavetta's Child and The Lost Witcher

The Witcher: Black and White

Pavetta's Child and The Lost Witcher

 **12 Years Later…**

12 years had passed since Marvo killed Theod and Angella. Usually, emotional thoughts would soon disappear from a Witcher's mind so he wouldn't end up dwelling on it but he was still plagued with nightmares. Almost every night, he watching himself behead the poor girl. It never ended badly, for he constantly relived bringing his sword down on Lord Theod's face.

In 12 years, Marvo had vanquished many a monster and became an experienced monster hunter for hire. His sharpened senses became sharper with every coming year and he had earned a few scars. 14 the last time he counted. The largest of all was a long white line that started at his right collarbone and ended at the left side of his pelvis. Courtesy of a werewolf.

He hadn't heard any word from the Witchers he trained with and it didn't bother him, he knew they could all hold their own in a fight.

Now, Marvo was in the thick of Temeria. He had no contract but rather was on the hunt for one. In the lands surrounding Maribor, Marvo sat beside a fire on his knees. His golden eyes shut and his swords beside him. He strained to focus on nothing around him and only be at peace for a small amount of time.

But, it's never like that for a Witcher. As he remained still, his meditation was interrupted by the sound of someone dismounting a horse. From the way they approached, Marvo could tell they thought he hadn't noticed him. Marvo sprung into action, grabbing his steel sword and somersaulting forward he landed with the point of a sword at his throat.

Marvo looked up and saw the slender frame of a woman. She wore a simple wool cloak and her face was shrouded by a hood. She had her sword in a two handed grasp pointed right at him. Marvo could see the engravings along the blade, they were Elvish. Marvo hadn't learned how to read it.

Marvo cleared his throat casually. "What's the sword say?" he asked.

The woman leaned in, poking Marvo's adam's apple with the point. "Zireael ." she said.

Marvo shifted his shoulders, exposing his medallion from beneath his own cloak. "You have a name?"

The woman saw the medallion "Where did you get that!?" she asked forcefully.

"I earned it. I'm a Witcher." answered Marvo.

Marvo felt Zireael back from his throat. He took a sigh of relief and stood up on his feet. He could now see locks of silver hair poke through the woman's hood.

"So, what is your name?" Marvo asked.

"You first." she replied.

Marvo sighed again. "Marvo of Claremont, now you."

The woman sheathed Zireael. "Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon."

Marvo smiled. "Well, that's a mouthful."

"People call me Ciri." Ciri replied.

"Yeah, that is much easier to pronounce." Marvo said with a short chuckle.

Ciri glanced around the clearing they were standing in. "You don't happen to know Geralt of Rivia, do you?"

"Geralt? He brought me to the Witchers via Law of Surprise. How do you know him?"

"Pretty much the same." she said smiling.

Ciri threw back her hood, exposing the silver hair, green eyes, and scar down her left eye like Geralt's. Marvo couldn't help but admire the young woman's beauty, although he figured if he said as much she'd kill him. She gave off that boyish and rugged appearance.

"Marvo of Claremont, I didn't find you at random because I need your help. So does a few other friends of mine." Ciri said after a brief silence.

"My help? Specifically my help?" Marvo asked, puzzled.

Ciri cocked her head to one side. "Well, not your help per say. I needed a Witcher, now you're coming with me to Novigrad."

"What's in Novigrad beside nonhuman haters?" Marvo asked.

Ciri turned back to her own horse and mounted it. "Triss Merigold and Yennefer of Vengerberg."

Of course, Marvo had heard these names before. Former lovers of Geralt. But why they'd need a Witcher when they had Geralt still confused Marvo.

"Why do two sorceresses need a Witcher when they have Geralt?" Marvo asked as he mounted his own horse.

"Because they don't have Geralt, he's gone." Ciri said sadly.

Marvo's mouth fell open. "Geralt's dead?"

Ciri turned back to him. "No, he's missing. We don't know where he is. Your job is to find him."


	7. The City of Red

The Witcher: Black and White

The City of Red

 **1 Month Later…**

Marvo began to realize how much he actually travelled. His coin purse was a little light seeing as how he spent more time going from place to place than actually finding and taking contracts. He had requested to Ciri that they take one or two on their way to Novigrad but she remained adamant that they make good time to Triss and Yennefer. Soon, they reached the beaten and war torn land of Velen. Previously ruled by Philip Strenger or the "Bloody Baron" as he was called.

Four or five years ago, Marvo had heard that a Witcher was tasked with finding his missing wife and daughter, whatever the outcome of the search Strenger ended up hanging himself anyway. Now, it was under the thumb of Denneryn Rothschild nicknamed "The Cold Baron." Marvo was unsure why.

In the time of an afternoon, Ciri and Marvo passed Crow's Perch and Oxenfurt. By night, they were riding over the southern most bridge into the sprawling city of Novigrad. As they rode through the streets, Marvo saw either Redanian soldiers or witch hunters patrolling the streets. On nearly every street corner, a priest of the Eternal Fire spouted their religious nonsense.

The air in Novigrad stunk of burnt flesh and the coppery smell of fresh blood. He figured he shouldn't be surprised by this, The Redanians frequently carried out burnings of anyone they thought was nonhuman or harboring one. With or without any proof. Beheadings were also common, seeing as how Novigrad's crime was at an all time high and the prisons were overflowing with no way to get rid of them all.

They wove through a series of tight alleys until they reached what was obviously the poor part of the city. Each building was connected to the last and were all at least three stories tall. Each room in these houses were occupied by a different family and they all emptied their waste from the same place, their windows.

They'd lean out the window and dump the chamber pots out onto the street. Dousing any unlucky soul who was passing under. It wasn't rare for two people on the second and third floor to empty the pots at the same time, having the one on bottom get hit by their mass of shit.

Marvo was appalled by the condition these people were living in but Ciri seemed used to it all. She had obviously been through more than most and had seen and done unspeakable things. Marvo wanted so much to ask but he knew he couldn't. She didn't trust him or anyone except probably Geralt enough.

They finally got out of the district and were met by the very homely Rosemary and Thyme. Marvo had never heard of it, but it looked innocent enough. Ciri and Marvo dismounted and tied their horses to the hitching post before stepping inside the establishment.

If the people in the Rosemary and Thyme weren't witch hunters or drunks, they were prostitutes and strumpets. It became evident that the Rosemary and Thyme was a place of many services.

They reached a flight of stairs and Ciri motioned for him to wait before ascending the gracefully. Marvo sighed and glanced around the establishment. He noticed the hateful gaze of a witch hunter and his friends.

Marvo tried to avoid their eye but to no avail as he soon sensed them advancing on him with their hands on the pommels of their sheathed swords.

"You, mutant." one of the witch hunters said. "Your kind ain't welcome here."

Marvo turned to face the men. "You don't own this establishment, how do you know who's welcome and who isn't?"

The witch hunter took a step forward, Marvo could smell the scent of cheap beer on his breath. He was very drunk, easy fight.

"Cause, we're the law in Novigrad, what we say goes!" he exclaimed.

Marvo grimaced mockingly. "I'd really hate to take orders from a dimwitted bigot like yourself."

"Why you fuckin' cunt!" the witch hunter screamed.

The witch hunter took a swing at Marvo with his left arm. As if the world slowed down, Marvo's senses caught every detail as he mapped out his strategy perfectly. Marvo first leaned back and allowed the man's fist to sail past him.

Marvo caught the man's arm by the wrist and brought his free arm's elbow onto the back of the witch hunter's joint. With a _snap,_ the arm bent forwards and the man howled in pain. Marvo then brought his elbow up and into the man's nose, knocking him to the floor.

Two of his friends advanced on him and Marvo did the same, the hunters were taken aback at the sight of someone not cowering in fear of them as they were used to. The man on Marvo's right took the first swing at Marvo, he knocked it out of the way, withdrew the man's dagger and kept it. With one punch, he knocked the man out.

As Marvo moved towards the last man with the dagger, his hands flew to his face to block whatever strikes would come his way. Marvo grabbed the man's arm and forced it down on a wooden table. He took the dagger in one hand and drove it down into the last hunter's palm. He screamed horrendously as Marvo shoved the man back, forcing the dagger through his hand and out of the crevice between his ring and middle finger.

The two hunters who were still conscious, holding the various wounds inflicted by the Witcher and scampered out of the Rosemary and Thyme.

Ciri rushed down the stairs and found Marvo with blood on his knuckles and elbow, and a bloody dagger stabbed into a table and an unconscious man on the floor.

"What the fuck did you do!?" Ciri shouted.

Marvo shrugged. "They attacked first."

Ciri growled and grabbed Marvo by the shoulder and hauled him up the stairs. Marvo didn't really try to resist, he knew she was furious with him for some reason. Ciri brought him to a room with no windows and minimal furnishings. Only a six chairs, four of which were occupied.

Marvo recognized only two though as Triss Merigold and Yennefer of Vengerberg. The other two were unknown to him.

"Who is this? We wanted Sonfrith of Cintra. He is obviously not him." Yennefer said.

"Yen, this is Marvo of Claremont. Another of Geralt's Law of Surprise victims." Ciri said.

Yen glanced at her comrades and stood up. Intimidatingly, she walked up to Marvo and studied the young Witcher upside down. From his Wolf medallion to his dark brown hair, which had grown to a good length and was kept in a ponytail.

"You claim to know Geralt, describe him for us." Yen demanded.

"Silver hair, like her." he said, gesturing to Ciri. "And a scar down his eye."

"What did he say to you about us? Who are we to him?"

"You're Yen, his you know. And you are Triss Merigold, a previous flame. I'm not sure who the others are."

Triss frowned at the word "previous."

"What was Geralt's first kill?" Yen questioned after a brief silence.

"A brigand that was about to rape a little girl in front of her father." Marvo answered.

"Why is he called the Butcher of Blaviken?" Triss asked.

"Because he slaughtered a band of rogues including their leader Renfri."

Yen sighed. "You do know Geralt. Fine, he can stay."

Yen returned to her seat and the two men he didn't know stood up. One was very flamboyantly dressed and the other was a dwarf. They approached him and the flamboyant one took his hand and began shaking it.

"I am Julian Alfred Pankratz viscount de Lettenhove, but friends of mine including Geralt call me Dandelion." the flamboyant one said.

Marvo sighed. "Why does everyone have names that are so damn hard to say?"

The dwarf walked up and crossed his arms. "Zoltan Chivay." he said simply.

Dandelion huffed at his business partner's refusal to be friendly to the newcomer. "Zoltan is usually quite talkative. He's just been sour since our dear Geralt of Rivia went missing."

"How long has it been since Geralt went missing?" Marvo asked.

Yen crossed her arms. "We dispatched Ciri to find someone as soon as it happened. So about a month."

"Do we have a lead at least?"

"We do." Ciri spoke up. "12 years ago, Kaer Morhen was attacked, remember?"

"I do. Sir Adius Turnican and the Knights of Roshytta. Funded by King Radovid, rather shoddily in fact." Marvo replied.

"Well, that was a full decade ago. They're much better funded. They wiped out the School of the Viper and most of the Griffins. The Cats have stayed to themselves and we've heard nothing from the Bears." Triss reported.

"So our only lead on Geralt is the Knights? It's barely the beginning of a start. What about a location, the last one you saw Geralt?" Marvo said.

Zoltan scoffed. "None of us were the last to 'im. That'd be Jakob Tizus, a mercenary from Skellige. He was accompanying Geralt on an incursion into a fort held by the Knights."

"Then that is where I will go." Marvo said, turning to leave.

Yen took a step forward. "Won't you be needing a portal?"

Marvo chuckled. "Us Witchers aren't fond of 'em."

Yen also chuckled. "That explains a lot."


	8. The Skelliger

The Witcher: Black and White

The Skelliger

Marvo walked through the threshold from the Rosemary and Thyme and out into the streets of Novigrad. The chaos he observed previously hadn't subsided, not like he expected it to anyway. He continued walking, he decided to think through his options before embarking on the investigation. He soon found himself on the pier looking out over the salty ocean. Far out into the harbor, his senses found a pack of drowners at the bottom of the sea.

Ships of varying sizes came in and out, unloading cargo small and large. People, animals, vegetables, valuables, weapons, and the occasional band of quite blatant pirates stumbling their way towards Crippled Kate's.

On such crew noticed the young Witcher as he passed by them as they unloaded their inventory of probably stolen goods. A few got in front of him and another group behind him, cornering him on the narrow pier. Even a Witcher would have to be wary in these odds.

"Where you heading, Witcher?" a pirate asked in a graveled, disgusting voice.

Marvo cocked his head. "Your mother's. She can't get enough."

The pirate growled and the entire group drew their swords. Marvo drew his and prepared to fight.

"Boys!" A voice came from their ship.

All the pirates looked back at their ship and immediately sheathed their swords. They stood at attention like actual soldiers as their captain stepped out onto the pier. He had short ginger hair and a moustache. He was significantly taller than Marvo and was very well built. He wore a long deep blue coat and a sabre at his waist.

"Step away from the Witcher." the captain said.

Some of the pirates nodded and fled back aboard the ship, leaving the two alone on the pier.

The captain chuckled. "I gotta say, I've a soft spot in my heart for Witchers. One of you helped me outta very tight bind, a debt not easily repaid."

Marvo took a step towards the captain. "It seems I owe you a debt now."

The captain shook his head. "I've pledged no living soul will ever owe me a debt again. Nasty business, debts."

"Have we met?" Marvo asked.

"No," the captain extended his hand. "Olgierd von Everec."

Marvo shook Olgierd's hand. "Marvo of Claremont. Which Witcher helped you out?"

Olgierd laughed. "What other? Geralt o' Rivia! You don't happen to know where he is, do you?"

"That's just it. Geralt's gone missing, I was tasked in locating him."

Olgierd scratched his beard. "Well, if you ever need manpower never hesitate to call upon us. We'll be in Novigrad for a while but my crew and I are Oxenfurt bound."

Marvo nodded. "Thanks, Olgierd."

Olgierd also nodded. "Till the next, farewell."

Olgierd turned and boarded his ship again leaving now only Marvo on the deserted pier. Or, so he thought.

"You shouldn't trust him." Ciri said from behind Marvo.

Marvo turned to face her. "Why not?"

"He almost got Geralt killed two years ago when they went up against a being calling itself Gaunter O'Dimm. Believe me Marvo, he's dangerous."

"What? The large frame, crew of pirates, and sword at his hip didn't tip you off that he's dangerous?"

Ciri shook her head and turned away. "Just be careful who you trust or think you trust."

She walked back towards the Rosemary and Thyme and Marvo watched her go. She was oddly infatuating in her own mysterious way, even though Marvo knew he wasn't supposed to harbor emotional feelings, he couldn't help but stare at certain places as she walked away.

Marvo shook his head as if breaking a trance and kept walking towards the northern part of the city where Jakob Tizus was supposed to be holed up. He reached the aristocrat and politician part of the city and entered a tavern to get information.

At the counter, Marvo sat down next to a man with long blonde hair and a beard. He ordered a water and began sipping nonchalantly.

"Man comes into this bar like ye did, ye looking fer someone." the man beside him said.

Marvo stopped drinking his water and set it down on the counter. "Maybe, who are you?"

The man took a drink from his tankard and also set it down. "Someone who prides himself at knowing where everything is."

"Really? Do you know where Jakob Tizus is?"

The man quickly became nervous. He stood up from the counter. "No, I don't know nobody by the name! Ye best stop askin' about him!"

The man ran out of the tavern, clearly afraid of something. The barkeep walked up to him and leaned in close.

"It's not wise to be askin' that name around here, lad." the old barkeep said quietly.

"Why? Is he dangerous?" Marvo asked.

The barkeep glanced at his patrons. "It ain't that. Tizus was a notable member of gang working under the streets of Novigrad. He and the gang had a falling out and they kill most who speak the name."

"Do you know where I can find him?" whispered Marvo.

"Why'd you want to go and do something like that?"

Marvo sighed. "I'm looking for someone and I think Tizus might've been the last person to see him alive."

The barkeep leaned even closer to Marvo. "Back 'o the bar. Red hair."

Marvo turned around and saw the man he was talking about. He was tall, average build, and had flaming red hair tucked into a ponytail tied by a piece of cloth. He subsequently stood up and walked out.

Marvo groaned. "Dammit."

Marvo bolted from the bar and out into the street. In the distance, he spied Tizus clambering up a building like a cat. He ran after him and was lucky enough to find a ladder leading up the side of the adjacent building. Marvo climbed it and found himself alongside Tizus as they ran over the rooftops on either end of the street below.

They both skillfully vaulted over any low walls in their way. Soon, the street narrowed until Marvo was able to jump across to the other side. He did so, landed, and rolled. Springing back to his feet, Marvo continued the chase.

Tizus jumped down onto a balcony and slipped into the building. Marvo saw where he went and did the same, he found himself in a dark room staring down Tizus, who was now armed with a large claymore.

The Skelliger lunged forward with the claymore swinging to his right. Marvo caught it with his left and and with a swift action, drew his sword and hit Tizus over the head with the pommel.

/

But a few minutes later, Tizus awoke. Bound by rope suspended by a wooden crane hanging over the streets of Novigrad some 50 feet below. In front of his was the mysterious figure of the Witcher that chased his from the tavern all the way to his hideout with tiring.

Tizus groaned. "What do ye want, eh?"

Marvo took a step towards the edge. "You were the last person to see Geralt of Rivia alive, where?"

Tizus spat at Marvo's feet. "Piss of, bug."

Marvo frowned and drew his sword. Tizus tensed up but instead felt the blade scratch the bonds connecting him to the crane.

"Do not make me ask twice." Marvo growled.

"Geralt of Rivia? Name don't ring a bell, mate."

Marvo's sword sawed into the the rope a little more. "Then listen more carefully."

Tizus whimpered. "A'ight. We was in a forest at the base of the Blue Mountains!"

Marvo sheathed his sword. "What were you two doing there?"

"Geralt had gotten a lead on Adius Turnican, said something about gettin' even with the bastard."

Marvo thought for a moment. "Geralt was investigating the Knights? It explains a little, but it's might be enough."

"So, you'll let me go?" Tizus asked.

Marvo reached to his belt and unhooked a coin purse. He pinned it to Tizus' shirt. "Go to the Rosemary and Thyme. You're now central to a crucial investigation, we're not done with you."

Marvo took his sword again and sliced through the rope dropping Tizus onto a small wooden balcony that creaked as he landed on it.

As Marvo turned to leave, a loud whine sounded in his head. Suddenly, Yen's voice bore through.

" _Well, Marvo? What did you find."_

" _Wait? What the hell did you do?"_ Marvo asked through thought.

" _I may or may not have made a telepathic connection between us."_ Yen replied.

" _Why didn't you do this to Geralt?"_

" _I tried to, but something is blocking me. I have yet to figure out what. But no matter, what did Jakob Tizus say?"_

" _He and Geralt were investigating the Knights at the base of the Blue Mountains, they might have a staging ground there."_

" _Exceptional work, Marvo. We'll be in contact."_

Marvo's ears popped as the connection was severed. Marvo was dazed and a little nauseated. He hoped he never have to do that again.


	9. The Knight and the Raven Sorcerer

The Witcher: Black and White

The Knight and The Raven Sorcerer

Marvo walked into the Rosemary and Thyme late that night to find it deserted. Aside from a light candle here and there, the place was completely dark. He ascended the stairs cautiously, just in case. Marvo reached the top of the flight without seeing any signs of anyone there, then his sense caught someone moving around in one room.

Marvo opened the door to the room to find a tall figure dressed in well tailored robes standing before him. The various pieces of armor sprawled out on the bed. The armor was painted red and white, a Redanian. Then, in the dim light, Marvo recognized the man.

Sir Adius Turnican was in the room all by himself, no guards. Nothing. Marvo sensed an opportunity to end the conflict before it began.

"If you are smart; creature, you'll stay your blade." Turnican hissed, his back still turned to the Witcher.

"Why are you here?" Marvo sneered.

Turnican turned to face Marvo. "I am a guest. I fairly rented a room at this armpit of an inn from Mr. Dandelion, I am as welcome here as any other."

Marvo saw no immediate threat and sheathed his sword. "You aren't here without reason, so why are you here?"

Turnican blinked, then sighed softly. "I know you search for your friend Geralt of Rivia, but it is a lost cause. You'd have better luck finding Anna Henrietta baring her tits for members of the court."

Marvo shrugged. "We Witchers pride ourselves in achieving the impossible."

"Indeed. Like a higher vampire, you've achieved the form of a completely average human being whilst being anything but." Turnican said elegantly.

"Really don't like Witchers, do you?" inquired Marvo.

"Witchers, sorceresses, relicts, ogroids, cursed ones, draconids, specters, vampires, elementa, whatever isn't human is an abomination and must be purged from King Radovid's perfect society."

"Pray tell, does a perfect society openly partake in genocide?"

Turnican shrugged. "Anything to uphold Radovid's vision for us all."

"I think Radovid has proved himself to have a few loose bolts." Marvo said mockingly.

"Watch your tongue, boy. For I might make it easier for you and have it removed." Turnican warned with a deep scowl.

Marvo took a step forward. "Try it." he whispered.

Turnican looked as if he'd take Marvo up on his offer but instead, he backed down. "I'll rest easy tonight, knowing it'd be foolish of you to murder an official of the Kingdom of Redania in Novigrad of all places. Begone, vile monster." he said, waving him away.  
Realizing Turnican's logic, Marvo reluctantly turned and walked out of the Rosemary and Thyme.

/

The next morning, Marvo returned to find Turnican's room abandoned. Apparently, he didn't sleep _that_ peacefully and decided to vacate to premises before Marvo returned. The gathering of Triss, Yen, Zoltan, Ciri, Dandelion, and Marvo reconvened to discuss their next move. Even Jakob Tizus came into attendance. The crowns Marvo had given him was enough to sway the nimble mercenary.

They sat in the large room in chairs and sofas. Yen was the first to speak. "Marvo of Claremont has brought us a new ally, Jakob Tizus of Kaer Trolde."

Tizus nodded silently as the group turned his way. "Jakob was the last to see Geralt before he disappeared." Yen continued.

"This is true, we were at the base of the Blue Mountains looking into a stronghold held by the Knights of Roshytta." Tizus said.

Zoltan leaned forward. "Blue Mountains are littered with them Elven ruins, could be they seized one of 'em."

In contrast to Zoltan, Dandelion leaned back in his chair, balancing on two out of four legs. "Indeed, it is possible but it could also have been constructed recently."

Tizus shook his head, making his mass of red curls flutter. "No, I've seen the damned thing. It's an elf design, but the thing was so small, too small to be a fort."

Triss cleared her throat. "If it truly is Elven, then it's likely mostly underground. A network of caves maybe."

"Caves open everywhere," Marvo chimed in. "find a cave near this fort, we could have a way in."

Yen stood up from where she sat on the sofa. "It'd be too risky to scout the place out for ourselves, so I took the liberty of inviting another old friend.

"Another? Who?" Dandelion asked.

A man in a dark leather long coat and black leather boots strolled in. A hood of the small black material covered his face but strands of silver hair poked out.

"Really, Dendri? Take the damn hood off. We know who you are." Triss said.

Dendri cleared his throat. "Of course."

Dendri pulled away the hood to reveal long silver hair that ran down his back and almost to his waist, held at the back of his head and away from his eyes with the use of products. Speaking of his eyes, they had no pupils or irises and were a solid blood red.

Marvo stood up and faced the mysterious man. "You a vampire?"

Dendri laughed. "Hardly, I'm a sorcerer. A bit risky for me to be in Novigrad, but my lady Yennefer beckoned and I am obliged to heed her sweet call."

Yen chuckled. "You embarrass yourself, talking like that. Marvo, this is Dendri the Silver Snake. I summoned him some time before Ciri found you. He was hiding from Radovid in Nilfgaard's territory."

"Yes, Emhyr var Emreis has a wonderful taste in wine, and hasn't a problem speaking with someone like me." Dendri noticed Ciri scowl at the mention of her father. "He mentioned you quite a bit, might I add, Cirilla."

"Enough, Dendri!" Yen finally said, noticing Ciri's discomfort. "You do still have control over a certain flying creature?"

Dendri grinned and in an instant, entirely transformed into the image of a raven, even contracting in size to fit the appearance. The raven's beak opened and Marvo expected to hear a _caw_.

"My eyes are as keen as ever, Lady Yennefer." the raven spoke to Marvo's surprise, although no one else seemed to be surprised.  
Some time later, after Yen had already given Dendri the task of finding an entrance into the Elven fort. The raven had flown and was on it's way to the Blue Mountains. Yen, Triss, and Ciri later decided to take a walk through Novigrad.

The rest of the crew was simply sitting around, waiting for really nothing in particular. Suddenly, as they were lounging about, one of Dandelion's assistants came into the meeting room.

"Dandelion, sir? There are armed men standing in the parlor asking for you." he said.

Dandelion and Zoltan glanced at each other and Dandelion got up to leave the room. He followed the assistant down the stairs and into the main room where five men in unmarked knight armor were standing, with their broadswords already drawn.

"My friends!" Dandelion chirped happily. "To what do I owe the pleasure of warriors such as yours to come into my establishment?"

One of the girls stroked her hand up and down the breastplate of one of the knights. He put his armored hand on her shoulder and gave the girl a solid shove, she toppled to the ground before wailing and running off.

The leader of the group, a very, very tall man with a helmet designed to look like a phoenix stepped forward towards the bard.

"You are harboring nonhumans here. Need we remind you of the law?" the knight said.

Dandelion chuckled nervously. "Whatever do you mean, sir knight? I harbor no filthy nonhumans here."

"Do you call the word of Lord Commander Turnican untrustworthy? He was here himself but a night ago!"

"I do remember the gracious gentleman but I assure you, no nonhumans!" Dandelion said with a flash of his white teeth.

The knight again stepped closer and put a gloved hand on Dandelion's throat. Lifting him effortlessly into the air, the knight lifted his visor to reveal a hideously burnt face. Two black clouded eyes stared back at him.

"You do not amuse me, bard. We know a Witcher is here, and we will find him."

"Might I get you name, oh charred one?" Dandelion asked tauntingly. Dandelion's dig sparked a snicker from a few of the knight's men.

"Sir Silas Longhill. Second in command of the Knights of Roshytta."

"Oh, I hope that's on your resume." Dandelion interjected.

Longhill growled again and raised his sword. "Hey!" a voice shouted.

Longhill dropped Dandelion on the floor as he and his knights turned to see a Witcher standing behind them with his sword drawn and in a readied posture. He eyed each knight up before speaking again.

"Dandelion?" Marvo said.

Dandelion gasped. "Yes?"

"Cover your eyes and ears."

Dandelion did as he was told as Marvo unhooked a sphere from his belt and tossed it at the knights. The Samum bomb detonated and blinded and deafened them all. Marvo charged forward, stabbing one knight in the gap of his armor and giving a second knight a blast of Aard that sent him careening into Longhill.

Two more knights came to meet Marvo in melee and the young Witcher managed to hold his own against them but was eventually beaten back by the overwhelming force of two fully armored knights.

Zoltan came bolting down the stairs with a large hammer in hand. He swung it at the back of Longhill's head and the steel hammer connected with his ornate helmet, distorting the phoenix image into a twisted mass of metal.

Longhill fell to the floor as the knight who had been blasted back turned to face the dwarf, but instead got a faceful of dwarven hammer on Zoltan's second swing. Meanwhile, Marvo had managed to break a link in one of the knight's breastplate straps, making it disconnect and fall off, bearing a chainmail shirt underneath. As the knight realized his predicament, the Witcher had already tore through the chainmail and into the knight's stomach.

The first knight fell to the floor and the second charged with his sword held over his head. Marvo discarded his own sword, grabbed the knights arm with one hand and forced the knight's visor up with the other. The knight and the Witcher came face to face as Marvo sent another Aard right into his face.

The Aard send his head folding in on itself as his brains burst out the back of his head and began running down his neck and onto his chest and back. Marvo released his hold on the knight and let the body topple to the ground. The only knight remaining was Longhill, who could barely see out of his ruined phoenix helm.

Marvo picked up his sword and sheathed it. "Never return here again." he threatened.

Longhill growled under the mass of steel but he ran out of the Rosemary and Thyme anyway. Stumbling over his comrades as he went. Zoltan chuckled at the sight.

"Like a pup with it's tail between it's legs, eh?"


	10. The Blue Mountains

The Witcher: Black and White

The Blue Mountains

The lone raven soared high over the forest at the base of the Blue Mountains. Even with his astute vision, he had yet to spot any Elven fortress. He did spot several cave mouths that were lit by torch and guarded by Redanian men at arms. This was cause for suspicion, even if no fort could be seen, the caves and the soldiers were proof enough.

Dendri decided to call it a night and turned west back to Novigrad to inform Lady Yennefer of his findings. Suddenly, a bolt from a crossbow struck him in the chest, he plummeted to the ground and landed in the thick of the forest, his fall only a little cushioned by the canopy of trees.

Dendri was forced to return to his humanoid form. The pain seared through his chest as he hunted for broken limbs which he found plenty of and the bolt itself.

He heard voices in the distance. "Great shot, Gunther!" someone said to the crossbowman.

Dendri acted fast, he plucked a remaining feather from his arm and whispered a cantation then threw it into the air. The single feather became a full raven and flew off to tell Lady Yennefer of his findings, and his unfortunate luck. Soon, the crossbowman and his friend came upon the wounded sorcerer.

"Well, well. It weren't no ordinary crow ye shot, Gunther. It were a shape shifter."

Dendri had no choice but to surrender to them. They took him into the cave system and into their mighty Elven fortress. All he had was the confirmation that the place actually existed.

/

Yen, Triss, and Ciri entered the Rosemary and Thyme to find it in shambles. Dandelion stood in the center of the main parlor with all the tables cleared away, he held a mop that was soaked in blood and four armored bodies were stacked in one corner. In another corner sat Marvo and Zoltan playing a round of gwent, Zoltan was clearly winning and Marvo was asking questions about how the game was actually played.

"What. The. Hell did you idiots do!?" Yen shouted.

Marvo looked up from his cards. "Why is everything our fault?" To this Zoltan merely shrugged.

"We left you alone for a few hours, and there are four dead men in the parlor! Who are they, what happened?"

Dandelion stopped mopping. "They're Knights of Roshytta. They came in claiming I was harboring nonhuman; which I am by the way, and Marvo and Zoltan came to my aid. Only, one got away."

Yen threw up her hands. "Great, one got away!" she yelled. "You've compromised us here! We'll need to find somewhere else to make our base of operations thanks to you!"

While Yen was yelling, a raven crashed through the window and landed on the bloodstained floor. Yen saw what it was and ran to it. Kneeling beside the wounded animal, she picked it up.

"Lady Yennefer," it wheezed. "Dendri has been captured by the Knights."

"Where?" Triss asked.

"Blue… Mount…" the raven said before disintegrating.

Yen stood up, horrified. "It was a projection. Dendri really was captured."

Zoltan walked by the pile of dust with a couple kegs of alcohol under his arms. Ciri looked down at the dwarf's strange behavior.

"Zoltan? What are you doing?" Ciri asked.

Zoltan placed the kegs by the front door and turned to retrieve more. "The way I see it, the Reds are gonna be knockin' down our door with warrants to see us hang. So, we'd best burn everything we can."

Dandelion gasped dramatically. "Burn the Rosemary and Thyme? I cannot."

Zoltan rolled his eyes. "Open another damn Rosemary and Thyme somewhere else! If we stay here, our heads'll end up atop the city gates an' Triss an' Yen'll be burned alive!"

Dandelion glanced around nervously at everything he built and sighed, then nodded to his partner. "Burn it all."

A few minutes later, the crew stood outside the Rosemary and Thyme as it burned to the ground. Some locals tried to put the fire out but the accelerant that had been used made it almost impossible. The crew stuck around until the fire was out, then solemnly walked away.


	11. Underground

The Witcher: Black and White

Underground

Dendri awoke suddenly from in the dark chamber they were keeping him in. His arms and legs were pinned by dimeritium bars on an upright circular platform that was nailed against the far wall. He had no idea why the Knights were keeping him alive seeing as how he was a sorcerer. He only hoped the raven had made it back to Lady Yennefer.

A loud clanking sound echoed through his chamber then the wide door which was the only entrance and exit opened up. Three men clad in steel armor from head to foot walked in holding well crafted pikes tipped with plated iron. A fourth man strolled in wearing a wine colored jerkin and a silver cape draped over his right shoulder. The man's hair was long and dark with streaks of grey and a neatly trimmed beard.

"So," the well dressed one said. "You are the bird my men shot down."

Dendri looked up where he was held against the wall. "Lucky hit." he said, still feeling where the bolt had entered and exited his chest.

The man nodded, then gestured for the armored ones to leave. They did so.

"You know who I am, yes?" the man asked after a brief silence.

Dendri did his best shrug. "If I did, I wouldn't be here, I reckon."

The man took in a sharp breath. "I am the honorable Sir Adius Turnican of the Knights of Roshytta. You are a good-for-nothing magician who stumbled into the wrong place. Now, you will tell me who sent you here."

Dendri smiled. "Your mother, she told me to tell you your porridge is getting cold."

Turnican wordlessly took a step forward and back handed Dendri across his pale face. When Dendri looked back, the Knight's face was boiling with anger.

"You freaks never learn." he growled.

He reached behind him and withdrew a long knife that glimmered with silver, Dendri stared at the blade worryingly. Turnican slowly touched the edge of Dendri's mouth with it before noting the long locks of silver hair.

Turnican grabbed one and held it before Dendri's face. "You like your hair, do you not?"

Dendri nodded.

Turnican pulled on the hair and sliced through it, repeating the action over and over until Dendri's head was an uneven mess of not so graceful silver hair.

"Are you satisfied?" Dendri asked sadly.

Turnican laughed. "I haven't yet started."

Turnican took the knife and slowly brought it again to Dendri's mouth, slowly sticking the blade behind his teeth and up against his cheek. Dendri's red eyes became wide as he realized what was about to happen. He began shaking his head and begging for the Knight to stop but he did not. Turnican flashed he gleaming white teeth in a smile before forcefully pulling the sharp knife through Dendri's cheek in a spray of blood.

Dendri screamed uncontrollably from the pain. When he quieted down, Turnican took the blade and did it again to the other cheek, another bout of screams. It lasted most of the night, until Dendri hadn't the heart to even speak anymore, he was utterly broken.

Turnican sat on a simple wooden chair in front of him, his jerkin splattered with blood but nevertheless concealed by the wine color of his outfit. In his hands, he fiddled with the knife that cut Dendri's mouth open in a wide sickly smile.

Turnican cleared his throat. "Why do they call you 'Silver Snake?' Last I saw you turned yourself into a raven."

Dendri looked up. "I, I can turn into many things. Animals, mostly." he said quietly.

"Like a snake, mayhaps?"

Dendri nodded.

Turnican cocked his head to one side. "Fascinating, quite an agent of espionage you'd be."

"I was." Dendri admitted.

"Well, spit it out, what happened!?" Turnican shouted.

"I was a spy for Emperor Emhyr, but I defected and found myself in the service of Yennefer of Vengerberg. She sent me here to scout your fortress."

Turnican stood up and walked over to Dendri. "What does she know?" he hissed.

Dendri laughed weakly. "Everything." he hissed back.

Turnican's face contorted into a deep glare, then he turned back to the door. "Guards!" he called.

Two soldiers in simple chain mail and steel caps walked in. Turnican gestured to the prisoner.

"Take him to the dungeon." he ordered.

Dendri was too weak to resist as the Roshytta guards pulled him from the dimeritium and dragged him across the floor all the way to the dungeons. He was placed in a small cell that smelled of shit and piss.

 _Lovely._ Dendri thought to himself as they tossed him in and locked the door.

The cell had a single window. From it, Dendri could see that it was early morning and that they were nestled high in the cliffs of the Mountains.

"Quite the view, ain't it?" a raspy voice called from the darkness.

Dendri whirled around to see who was there but he saw nothing. Then, two small golden orbs appeared in the corner of the cramped cell.

"Who are you?"

The orbs moved upwards, now he could tell that they were eyes of a man standing up. Eyes like that of a Witcher.

"People call me Sonfrith." Sonfrith said.

"You're a Witcher." Dendri guessed.

The eyes nodded and Sonfrith stepped out so that he was partially illuminated. He was wearing rough soiled robes and wrappings around his hands and feet. His long hair went down to his buttocks and was black with grey here and there.

"Do you know Geralt of Rivia? I need to find him." Dendri said.

Sonfrith sighed. "Geralt's here, somewhere. I don't know where, they don't say much, these whoreson guards."

Dendri's red eyes narrowed. "How can I trust you?"

Sonfrith crossed his thin arms. "I've been here a year. What reason do I have to lie to you?"

/

The rental carriage moved slowly through the countryside with it's overcast skies. Yen, Triss, and Dandelion held on for dear life inside the carriage while Zoltan rode behind on a pony, fit for his stature. Tizus rode beside him on a regular sized horse. On the carriage bench, driving the team of horses was Marvo and Ciri who were taking the time to talk, they'd have plenty of time.

"So, Geralt took you into his service too?" Marvo said.

"Yes, aside from being the heir to the throne of Nilfgaard, I am trained in your Witchery arts." she replied.

"The battle on Undvik three years ago, that was you and Geralt's doing, then?"

Ciri leaned back and sighed. "Inadvertently. I was being hunted by a group of riders from another world, the Wild Hunt."

"Heard of 'em. Ugly bastards." Marvo commented.

"Geralt killed their regicide king Eredin and I stopped the White Frost from claiming our world."

"Sounds like one of those 'Chosen Ones' from fairy tales, doesn't it?" said Marvo.

Ciri laughed. "Yeah, it kinda does."

After a few minutes of silence, Marvo popped a question. "Did you see much of Geralt after Undvik?"

Ciri shook her head. "Not a whole lot. He'd be travelling or I'd be and there'd be very little time or communication. It was only after his disappearance did I come into contact with Yen and Triss again."

Inside the carriage, Triss leaned in close to Yen and whispered something.

"I think she's starting to like him." Triss said quietly.

"Ah, love is a wonderful thing. A budding flower, and when fully bloomed shall be picked and presented to a fair maiden." Dandelion said dramatically.

Yen frowned at the bard. "And what would you know of love, besides bedding each woman you come across with breasts the size of your head?"

"I happen to know a lot, Lady Yennefer. Mayhaps I'd show you." Dandelion grinned.

Yen sighed. "If you weren't Geralt's best friend, you'd not have any teeth left."

Zoltan's voice rang from outside the carriage. "There she is!"

Yen and Triss both opened the windows on either side of the carriage to see what Zoltan was talking about. Sure enough, there it was. A small city that ran along the Temeria side of the Pontar, Kelama was a bustling town that made a large sum of profit from the thousands upon thousands of fish and other aquatic creatures their many nets caught.

Marvo sniffed the air. "Smells like fish."

Ciri bumped him in the shoulder. "The largest producer of fish this side of the Pontar is bound to smell just a little bit like fish."

Marvo shrugged in response. "Home sweet home, I guess." he mumbled.

A column of fog had rolled in over the town and only the handful of tall chapels were visible above it. It was here the crew of ragtag of misfits would make base for the foreseeable future, might as well have made the best of it.


	12. Of Men and Monster

The Witcher: Black and White

Of Men and Monster

Adius Turnican sat at his desk staring at three reports at once, two of them about a certain blaze at the Rosemary and Thyme and another about a loose lips prisoner. All of which were valuable in their own way, even if the common eye didn't spot it. A dark figure stood in the shadows before him, his gaze lowered to the stone floor, awaiting Turnican to finish reading.

Turnican inhaled before speaking. "He specifically asked about Geralt of Rivia?" he asked.

The figure nodded. "He's asleep now but, he asked were the Witcher was in the fortress."

"And did he get an answer?"

The figure shook his head.

Turnican raised a groomed eyebrow and then waved the figure away. "Return to the cell and watch over our friend."

As the figure turned to leave, Turnican summoned the next man waiting outside the Lord Knight's office. The door opened, the figure left and a man in gilded armor swiftly walked in, placing his distorted phoenix helm on the table.

"Sir Silas, wonderful to see you again. Pray tell, the blaze was your doing?" Turnican addressed him.

The almost entirely burned husk of a head shook. "The Witcher was more formidable than originally anticipated, I was forced to flee when my men were killed." Silas Longhill said shamefully.

Turnican stood from his desk, he stood but an inch taller than the knight who towered over regular men and looked him in the eye.

"Do you remember what happened the last time you failed, Longhill?" Turnican asked, not bothering to address him as a sworn knight.

Turnican reached out and touched the seared flesh. "Now, I can do much worse. Do you want that?"

"No, Lord Knight." Silas replied.

"Take a hundred men, find the Witcher, the sorceresses, and the bitch betrothed to our King and kill them all. I don't care if a village of women and children stand in your way, kill everything until they are dead or are dying, do you understand, Longhill?"

Sir Silas nodded again.

"Do. Not. Fail!" Turnican screamed. He turned back to his desk and waved the Scorched Knight away like a plaything.

As Longhill left and Turnican reached his desk, he began to feel _it_ surfacing within him again. Suddenly, long spikes of solid bone sprouted from his back, running the length of his spine. He did his best to keep from screaming in agony. Claws began to protrude from his fingertips and scales started dotting his shoulders, back, and face. He quickly reached into his desk and grabbed a vial of black liquid. Turnican downed it in a second and the pain went away.

The bones and claws went back inside his body and the scales disappeared, his vision was blurry and he felt nauseous but it wasn't anything the Lord Knight of Roshytta couldn't handle. Turnican sat back down in the leather chair and breathed a sigh of relief that no one noticed his _special_ condition.

/

 **One Month Later…**

In four short weeks, Dandelion had spent a good chunk of his savings from the Rosemary and Thyme to buy an inn in Kelama to stand as a replacement. It acted as a business and the crew's base of operations. Marvo and Ciri were almost constantly out on missions or contracts for a little extra gold but when they weren't away from the riverside town, Yen noticed them talking with each other, laughing and telling stories. The mother in her wanted to wrench Ciri from the young Witcher but being in love with a Witcher herself, it hardly seemed fair.

For four weeks, things had been peaceful. The days dragged on for hours and the nights were all too short. Marvo spent his days riding around the Pontar accepting contracts and slaying beasts. Only one day, he returned from his daily hunt to find Yen in a particularly sour mood.

She stopped him outside Dandelion's new inn. "You need to come with me." she said without a proper greeting.

Confused, Marvo followed along as she walked down the muddy road out of Kelama. They walked a long time in silence until they were a fair distance away from anyone else. Only then did Yen talk.

"What is all this about?" Marvo asked when they finally stopped walking.

Yen sighed. "I felt something, I don't know what but I've an eery feeling."

Marvo cocked his head and narrowed his golden eyes. "Felt what?"

"Nothing physical, mental. Like, someone was in danger somewhere." she replied.

"Do you know where?"

"No, but I know how to get there." Yen said with a faint smirk.

Marvo's shoulders drooped with disappointment. "Portals?" he asked.

Yen nodded. "Portals." she confirmed.

A swirl of golden beams appeared behind her and she backed up into it. With shoulders still lowered, he followed, not enjoying the predicament he was about to endure at the hands of Yennefer. He braced himself and stepped through the portal. The two found themselves in a dark cave with little to no light in it.

"So, if you could bring us here, can you possibly get us inside Turnican's fortress?" Marvo asked from the darkness.

Marvo saw with his senses that Yen was shaking her head. "I can only teleport to a place I have some kind of connection to, magic isn't all straight forward." she added.

Marvo scoffed. "Tell me about it."

Marvo led Yen through the dark with his ears and nose until he found a piece of a tree's root. Convenient, but fortunate. He snapped it from the rest of the tree overhead and used Igni to turn it into a makeshift torch for Yen.

They wandered the cave for a long amount of time until they came across a large cavern and torchlight. Marvo counted maybe nine or so men in simple Redanian uniforms and torches standing over two masses even Marvo's superior vision couldn't make out.

"Who are they?" Yen whispered.

Marvo frowned. "Look like Redanians."

"Could they be working for Turnican?" she asked.

"One way to find out." Marvo said with a grin.

Marvo bounded from their vantage point and landed but 20 feet away from the squad of soldiers. They in unison turned to face him.

"Evenin' gents." Marvo said.

"Who are you?" one of the soldiers said, his voice echoing through the chamber.

"Just a traveler wonderin' why Reds are hunkerin' down in a cave such as this."

"None o' yer business."

"Either way, I'm not going anywhere." Marvo said.

The soldiers took a step forward. "Is that so?" another asked.

Marvo unsheathed his sword. "Yeah it is."

Marvo lunged forward swiftly. He whirled about mid air as his steel came crashing down on the skull of a soldier. The some of them advanced on his backside, so Marvo pulled his blade from the man's head and swung it around in a pirouette motion, decapitating two more. A large fireball came from Yen's direction and blasted away another three men.

The final three men regrouped and got shoulder to shoulder in a last stand. Marvo's eyes narrowed on the biggest man in the group, suddenly, the big man turned to his comrades and stabbed the man beside him. Before the last could react, he had been stabbed through the throat.

Marvo advanced on the man under the Witcher's influence and sliced cleanly through his neck, sending his brawny head twirling away.

Yen came down from her vantage point and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Well, that was invigorating."

Marvo didn't reply, instead he sniffed the air for a scent he recognized.

"What is it?" Yen asked.

"Something in someone's blood." Marvo said.

Yen gave him a confused look. "Iron? Oxygen? What?"

"No, something different. Something chemical." he said simply.

Marvo knelt beside two corpses that were slumped on top of each other. Moving one aside, he peered at the one underneath. He wore different clothing than the others and also had no head. This wasn't one he had killed. Then he saw it, protruding from the folds of his cloak was a Witcher's medallion, a wolf.

"This one was a Witcher." Marvo said breathlessly.

Yen was moving bodies out of the way. Then, she finally called out. "This one two!"

Marvo stood up and turned to her. This body had a corresponding head to go along with it. He recognized the mug of the Witcher, Salac. One of the boys he had trained alongside. He looked back at the headless one, then noticed a bloody bag discarded when the fight began.

He walked to the bag and pulled out it's contents. Long orange hair and beard, eyes rolled back in their sockets. He also recognized this man, Arnley.

"Two Witchers at the same time. They couldn't have been killed by these men, they'd at least have wounds."

"What else is capable of killing Witchers?"

Marvo didn't want it to be true but everything pointed to a single thing. His words almost caught in his throat but he managed to get them out.

"Witchers." he said solemnly.


	13. Battle of the Pontar

The Witcher: Black and White

Battle of the Pontar

Marvo and Yen stepped back through the portal into Kelama, a look of anger on Marvo's face while a look of equal confusion adorned Yen's. Marvo moved swiftly back to the inn while Yen struggled to keep up with the Witcher's movements.

"Marvo, what did you mean? You think Witchers killed them?" Yen asked as they reached the inn.

Marvo turned back to her coldly. "I do not know, but I intend to find out."

Marvo opened the door to the inn which was bustling with patrons and a gaggle of strumpets Dandelion had hired some time ago, they had offered their services to the tall, broad, and relatively handsome Witcher but he had turned them down each and every time. Zoltan appeared from the crowd of people with an uneasy look on his long face.

"Marvo, we got a wee bit of a problem." Zoltan said. "Follow me upstairs."

Marvo glanced at Yen who shrugged. Marvo followed the dwarf to an upstairs room which was smaller than the one in the Rosemary and Thyme but it'd have to do. Triss and Ciri were already waiting for them. They too didn't look to happy.

"So." Marvo said. "What's the problem?"

Triss sighed. "The Knights of Roshytta have gathered a substantial force a mile from the town. Led by a man called Longhill."

Zoltan stepped up. "Longhill was the one who attacked us at the Rosemary and Thyme."

Yen crossed her arms. "Might be a form of payback."

Marvo nodded. "We are grossly outnumbered."

"You were grossly outnumbered in Kaer Morhen." Ciri said with a smile.

Marvo raised a bushy brown eyebrow. "We had seven Witchers. Here, we only have one."

"And two sorceresses, a dwarf, an Elder Blood, and a bard." Triss said.

Marvo scoffed. "Not exactly the Army of Nilfgaard."

"We have no choice. We need to face Longhill before they reach Kelama. There's no telling what he'll do if we fail." Yen said.

Marvo sighed. "Let's get to work."

/

Sir Silas Longhill sat on his armored black stallion at the back of his force of well armored foot soldiers. In the distance, over a small ridge, he spied the fishing town. His strategic mind told him this would be an easy victory. A Redanian scout crested the ridge as he rode swiftly towards the line.

The scout reached the point on the hill where Longhill sat. "What is it?"

The scout grinned. "Five riders comin' our way, sir."

Longhill gave the scout suspension of disbelief. The nonhuman bastards were foolish if they believed five could beat one hundred. Sure enough, five riders came over the same hill the scout came over. They were lined up in a single file line. Cloaks and hoods draped over their shoulders and heads. The twin swords gave the Witcher away.

Longhill shouted to his men. "Form up! Shield wall!"

The men did as they were commanded. The first line raised their long shields and the second line of infantry pointed spears over their shoulders. Lines three and four drew broadswords and axes. Longhill and his group of light cavalry readied lances. It was a formidable force, indeed.

/

On Marvo's end, he gave his horse a wave of his hand. The creature's fear went away almost immediately. He'd need it fearless for his undeniably stupid plan. He watched as Longhill's force got ready in a shield wall formation, it wouldn't protect them.

Marvo didn't draw his sword but he still took off running towards the enemy line. He kicked at his horse's' haunches, urging the creature to run faster and it did. The distance quickly closed in between him and the wall and when he was mere meters from them, the horse leapt high into the air, over the shield wall and into the thick of panicking men.

Marvo took his feet out of the stirrups and stood up on his saddle. His acute sense of balance keeping him firmly anchored to the horse as it ran through the soldiers. From both hands, he casted endless streams of Igni, burning the soldiers alive as they gave the horse a wider and wider berth. Soon, the duo reached the group of light cavalry. Moments before the horse reached the points of their lances, Marvo leapt off his horse, unsheathed both swords at once and began cutting away at anyone close to him.

The cavalry's horses panicked and screamed in fear. They disobeyed their rider's commands and began to flee, prompting the knights to dismount and join the melee with the Witcher. By the time Ciri had joined the fight and great balls of fire came raining down upon the Roshytta soldiers several of them had already fallen, burnt to death or cut down by the dual-wielding Witcher.

Longhill's horse bucked him off and he fell to the rocky ground with a painful thud. Through the narrow slit of his helmet, he saw the Witcher standing over him. Longhill cursed and scrambled as fast as he could to his feet. The Witcher and the Scorched Knight stood staring at each other for half a second before engaging in one on one combat.

The two men clashed swords several times. At some point in the battle, Marvo had lost his steel sword and was limited to his silver, his cloak was shredded and stained with blood. Longhill's armor was splattered with blood and mud and the backside was covered in dents, making his mobility lack.

The two combatants forced each other to the side of the hill as the remainder of Longhill's forces retreated away from the fight, leaving the Scorched Knight to fend for himself. As the melee between the two reached a step incline which stretched all the way down into the Pontar, the heavily armored Longhill quickly lost his footing and tumbled down to the banks.

Marvo took off down the incline after him, his bloody sword in one hand. He reached the downed knight, who was lying on his back. The sounds of battle had quieted down as it became clear Longhill and the Knights had failed once again.

Marvo knelt beside Longhill, bloodied and beaten. His helmet had came loose during the fall and exposed his burned face. The dark cloudy eyes among the scars stared up at the Witcher menacingly.

"What are you waiting for, freak? Kill me." he said wearily.

Marvo stared back at the knight. "You could have retreated, why didn't you?"

Silas Longhill spat blood. "I wanted the chance to kill you, but it seems the gods wouldn't let me. Now, don't be a milksop, fucking end it!" he screamed.

Marvo sheathed his sword and placed a hand on Longhill's breastplate. "What are you doing?" he asked.

Marvo pushed down on his body, forcing the knight down into the murky depths of the Pontar. In moments, Longhill began to thrash in the water, trying to escape. Then he was still. Marvo let go of the knight and let the armor carry his corpse down to the river bottom.


	14. The Red Handed Red Head

The Witcher: Black and White

The Red Handed Red Head and the Rampant Knight

Marvo stumbled up the incline from the Pontar and back up to the battlefield. Villagers from Kelama had already begun picking up the dead and carrying them to a massive pyre outside the town. Over half of the Scorched Knight's men were dead, many of whom at the hands of Marvo and Ciri. Marvo had only one clue as to how Turnican knew they were there.

Squatting among the bodies was the man with red hair. Tizus was rooting through the trousers of a dead soldier, picking out anything he could find.

Marvo approached the Skelliger. "You know, looting is outlawed in the Continents."

Tizus looked up at the Witcher and spat. "I'm not of the damned Continents. I'm not bound by your rules."

Tell me," Marvo said, crouching on the opposite side of the body. "How'd you do it?"

Tizus looked up at him inquisitively. "Do what?"

"Get that raven to Sir Turnican without us noticing." Marvo bluntly said.

The Skelliger licked his lips but said nothing. "Is anything you told us about Geralt true?" Marvo questioned. "Or did you sell him out to the Knights?"

Without a word, Tizus leapt up and turned to run. Before he got far, Marvo slashed at the man's ankle. Blood spurted from the open wound and Tizus collapsed to the ground, howling in pain. Marvo took a step towards him and stood over the prone Tizus.

"What did you say that was a lie!?" Marvo screamed at him.

Tizus flipped over onto his back, his face and red hair matted with mud. "Nothing! I swear! He paid me to accompany him to the edge of the wood to spy on the Knights. Only, I'd been paid by the Knights to spy on 'im and report his movements to 'em."

Marvo softened only a little. It wasn't that he lied, he just left information out. Still, he had ratted on them and put a whole village at risk.

Marvo took in a deep breath through his nose. "If they had killed us, what do you think they'd have done with you?"

Tizus grinned. "Spared me. Except that didn't happen, I was looting coin to get me outta this damn fishery village!"

"You are a stupid cunt, aren't you? They'd have cut you down like the rest of us."

"So," Tizus said quietly. "What are you going to do? Execute me for treason?"

Marvo's grip tightened on his sword and he drove it through the traitor's mouth. Blood bubbled up and spilled out the corners of his mouth and the back of his head. The ginger hair stained red. Marvo looked up from the corpse and saw Yen and Triss staring at him, along with the villagers.

Marvo wretched the blade from Tizus' mouth and sheathed it, walking over to where they stood he spoke.

"Jakob Tizus betrayed us, he told them where we were."

Yen sighed. "Bastard."

Triss glanced at Yen then back to Marvo. "Did he say anything before you…" Triss' focused turned back to the fresh corpse. "Anything about Geralt?"

Marvo sighed. "Nothing we didn't already know."

He left them there in the field as he returned to the inn for some much needed food. He didn't need inhuman senses to know something big was going to happen, with him in the middle of it.

/

 **Some Time Later…**

Yen ascended the stairs to where Marvo had taken up residence. Unlike per usual, the Witcher's door was closed and latched. Marvo usually had it open. Yen put her ear against the door but heard nothing, whatever was happening in there, he was being as quiet as a mouse. Finally, she knocked. Once, twice, thrice, and nothing.

Suddenly, Marvo opened the door. He was stark naked and didn't seem the least bit ashamed about it. Yen had to stare at the ceiling to avoid looking.

"Marvo," she said quietly. "What the hell is going on?"

"Well, Ciri and I-" he began.

He needn't say anything more as before he could finish, he was already being flung across the room by use of magic and out the window and onto the muddy streets where Ciri was hastily trying to dress.

"Yen?" she asked as the Witcher landed in front of her.

Marvo climbed to his feet. "Yen." he confirmed.

From the inn, they heard the voice of pure motherly anger. "Ciri!" Yen shouted.

Ciri glanced from the shattered window to Marvo. "Oh, no."

/

Turnican once again sat at his desk, staring dead eyed at the man before him. The tall lanky individual was sweating beads, and for good reason. The anger was plastered across Turnican's face as he heard the news.

"Lord Knight." the man managed to say. "Sir Longhill has failed. He's dead."

A long deep sigh from the Lord Knight. "What of our informant? The Skelliger, what about him?"

"Dead too, Lord Knight."

A chill ran down the spines of the guards standing outside the Lord Knight's office as the young man screamed until he screamed no more. Turnican emerged from the room with a blood splatter running across his chest and face. He looked at both the guards, who tried not to make eye contact.

"Well!? Get me a fucking towel!" He shouted.

Both the guards scrambled from their posts and down the long hall in search of a towel of sorts for their leader, who was in a particularly bad mood. Turnican turned back to his office and the corpse of the man with his entrails sprawled out on his marble floor.

"How hard is it to kill one fucking Witcher!?" Turnican screamed to nothing and no one in particular.

One of the guards returned with a cloth towel, he saw the artwork Turnican had done. His eyes widened in horror.

"Oh gods." he breathed, terrified.

Turnican casually took the towel and wiped his face with it. "Bolster our defenses, they'll be coming for us next. And get someone to clean this up."


	15. At The Gates of The Enemy

The Witcher: Black and White

At The Gates of The Enemy

The crew spent nearly an hour trying to keep Yen from killing Marvo. She had already given him three new wounds to be turned into scars. Yen proved to be a challenge to calm but they finally managed to do it and got the three of them sat down and talking it out in a civil manner, even though Dandelion, Zoltan, and Triss could hear Yen's infamous temper flame up every now and then.

From a safe distance from the sorceresses' wrath; on the other side of the inn, Dandelion, Zoltan, and Triss decided now was a good time to relax for a moment.

"You do remember what I said about love on the way here?" Dandelion asked Triss while lounging on a satin sofa.

"Before you flirted with her she threatened to harm you worse than she did Marvo? Also, I've seen how you 'love.' Your interpretation of it is lacking in legitimacy." Triss replied.

"Besides, Dandy. I've seen the lasses you brought in and out of the Rosemary and Thyme. Either they was struck by your never-ending charm or they just needed quick coin."

Dandelion look at his friend with a certain hurt confusion as his genuine love was being mocked so openly.

Zoltan chuckled. "What? You didn't feel your coin purse get a wee bit lighter every mornin' after?"

He shrugged. "I figured it was you, no wonder you never paid me back."

Triss stood up to walk away. "You're a phenomenal businessman, Dandelion, but you are the biggest fool I've ever laid eyes on."

"And how many men have you laid eyes on in your years?" Dandelion asked with a big grin.

"You saw what a sorceress did to a Witcher. Do you really want to play this game?"

Dandelion gulped. "Not really."

"Good." Triss replied with a smile.

/

Marvo and Ciri sat rather uncomfortably on the pair of chairs across from where Yen sat on another chair. Her violet eyes practically staring into the Witcher's soul.

Marvo looked at Ciri. "Geralt didn't ever have this talk did he?"

Ciri simply shook her head.

Yen's gaze drifted to Ciri. "I do not consent to this, but I see the parallels. I too fell in love with a Witcher, and I see now it'd be unfair to deny you the same." Yen again fixed her eyes on Marvo. She may have allowed the relations to continue, but that didn't mean she had to be happy about it.

Marvo was just as relieved as Ciri was when they were allowed to leave Yen's presence.

/

Dendri sat at the far corner of his cell away from the door. Sonfrith sat beside it, partially illuminated by the torchlight peaking through the cracks of the door. In the time he spent in the cell wasting away, the flesh from the cuts Turnican had given him had merged again but it had been left untreated and was grossly infected. Puss oozed from it day and night and the blood veins around his head turned a dark purple. The wound on his chest also had become infected and the infected blood had reached all the way down his chest and arms.

Something began to swell over his left eye, forcing it shut, the other crimson eye worked somewhat but his vision had become dim on account of his confinement. One of his ears had been hacked off earlier that day and the blood still poured down his face and into his infected mouth.

"Trust me, they get better." Sonfrith said from his seat beside the door.

Dendri put a hand on his mutilated face. "Does it? Everything hurts day and night for months. Sometimes, I've contemplated chewing my own wrist veins out."

"That would be a mistake." the Witcher replied.

"I see no sane reason to re-enter society with a face like this. Especially facing the people I've loved. It'd be better to die down here." Dendri replied.

The door to their cell opened and a guard stepped through. WIthout the guard having to say a word to him, Sonfrith got up and walked calmly out of the cell.

"There's time enough for that. Let's go."

The guard dragged the near blind sorcerer to his feet and out of the cell. Even the dim torches seemed excruciatingly bright to him and every step he took seemed like a mile to his cramped and boney legs. The shackles that bound his wrists, feet, and neck were dimeritium. Escape was truly impossible. Dendri's devotion to the lovely Lady Yennefer had fizzled away and he cursed the day the cunt was born for putting him in this situation.

The guard opened a door and shoved him inside. The room was wide and almost empty aside from an upright table and two men standing beside it. One was his first torturer Turnican in an elegant blue and gold coat and leather trousers and knee high boots. The other man was tall and impossibly skinny. Rags hung from his bony shoulders and his face didn't quite look like a face from all the deformities and lack of teeth in his mouth. His nose and eyelids had been removed, giving him the look of a rotten corpse.

"Ah," Turnican's slithery voice called out. "Dendri. So glad you could join us."

Dendri had no choice but to limp forward feebly without saying a word in response. He was afraid what they'd do if he said something.

"Dendri, this is Undrag. He's going to take care of you like he did the Witcher you've been asking about."

Dendri's one eye widened. "How do you-?" he began.

"I know a great many things, Dendri. Now, come here and we'll get you set upon Undrag's lovely table here."

Undrag smiled hideously. Whatever the creature was going to do, it wouldn't be enjoyable. Wait, what was he thinking? Calling Undrag a creature? Why, Dendri figured he looked just as much a monster as Turnican's torturer.

Dendri hobbled to the table and was fastened into place by Undrag. As Undrag worked, slime and saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth. His yellow eyes darted this way and that like a nervous lizard. Whenever Dendri would squirm with discomfort, Undrag would slap of scratch him with his long pointed fingernails.

Finally it came, the thing he had been dreading. Dendri had been properly fastened to the table and Undrag grabbed a crude syringe and filled it with a clear liquid. Dendri was too weak to move as the liquid was injected into his body. His head began to feel more woozy than it already did and he felt himself blacking out. Just before he did, he saw Turnican step in front of him.

"What is your name?" Turnican asked.

Dendri spoke without his control. "I have no name."

"What is your purpose?"

"Kill Witchers."

/

 **Four Days Later…**

" _Your's sure this plan will work?"_ Yen asked telepathically.

" _I don't see why it shouldn't."_ Marvo thought back. " _Look, I'll get inside the fortress, find Geralt and Dendri, and get the fuck out. Simple as that."_

" _I recall Geralt having plans as simple as that, they rarely went as simply as we would've liked."_ Yen warned.

Marvo's ears popped as Yen severed the link between them. He walked through the forest at the base of the Blue Mountains in the thick of night, no weapons to speak of. His plan, get himself captured or at least feign capture. He reached a cavern entrance where two soldiers were standing guard. When Marvo emerged from the thicket with his hands in the air, their spears immediately pointed at him. At least they had good reaction time.

"I surrender." he said simply.

The guards exchanged worried glances but went along with it. They each grabbed one of the Witcher's arms and pulled them behind his back. The guards began leading him down the long cavern tunnel into the fortress. As they were nearing the first checkpoint, Marvo stopped a moment.

"What's the holdup, freak?" one of the guards asked.

"I just wanted to ask a question." Marvo replied.

The guard sighed. "What?"

Marvo managed a cheeky grin. "How long were you expecting to live?"

Without warning, Marvo pulled away from their grasp. Wrenching a spear from one of the men's hands, he stabbed the man through the narrow opening in his helmet. Swiftly dodging the spear blow from the other guard, he pulled his spear from the guard's face and stuck it in the second guard's belly. He to fell to the ground, giving Marvo time to see which one was closer to his size.

Moments later, Marvo was dressed in very tight Redanian armor. Yen had used a spell only minutes previous to disguise his yellow eyes for that of a normal human with dark brown eyes. Marvo hid the bodies in the woods and walked back to the checkpoint in the cave. The three men standing guard there ordered him to stop.

"What's the problem?" Marvo or the Redanian asked.

"What do you think you're doing?" one guard asked.

Marvo sighed. "Taking my leave, my shift's over."

The Redanians murmured so he couldn't hear but Marvo did, every word. They were discussing when the front guard's shifts end but they concluded that none of them knew, so they let him pass.

Marvo moved past the checkpoint and into the fortress of the Knights of Roshytta. Unsure of what awaited him, he could either succeed in his task and retrieve Geralt or he could die trying. He only hoped for his and Ciri's sake it was the former.


	16. Freaks, Halflings, and Witchers

The Witcher: Black and White

Freaks, Halflings, and Witchers

Marvo; stilled disguised as a Redanian, walked calmly through the winding passageways leading through the fortress. His suspicions of the place had been confirmed and then some. This fortress was Elven in origin but it was also sitting on a massive dimeritium mine, meaning the biggest users of dimeritium in the Continent now had the largest source of the metal.

As much as Marvo wanted to explore, he sensed he needed to hurry. He could feel the brown slipping away from his eyes and revealing his gold underneath. He avoided eye contact with other passing soldiers but Marvo couldn't help but notice the suspicious glances he was getting.

Soon, Marvo reached what seemed to be a barracks, men were stripping the light armor from their bodies and climbing into uncomfortable looking bunks. One of them saw Marvo looking around.

"You new?" the soldier asked, standing from his bunk and stepping towards the Witcher in disguise.

Marvo cleared his throat. "Yeah, where might I find the dungeons?"

The soldier's eyes narrowed, then he chuckled. "Anyone ever told you, you look like them Witchers?"

Marvo chuckled too. "All the time." he said, relieved.

The soldier pointed to the door to the barracks. "Corridor on the left, down the 30 flights of stairs."

Marvo thanked the soldier and continued on his way, the helmet didn't cover much of his face but the eye spell should've still been in effect. He worried about the time he had left and quickened his step to the dungeons.

/

Marvo reached at the bottom of the 30 flights a massive door of wood reinforced with dimeritium. The door could fit ten men shoulder to shoulder through it and was almost impossible to get through if you were a nonhuman trying to escape to freedom. His uniform allowed him to enter the dungeons unnoticed, but what he found was the biggest surprise thus far.

Inside awaiting him in the large passage lined with cells was a group of Roshytta Knights in full steel armor and weapons, led by Sir Turnican.

Turnican held up his armored hands and smiled through his raised visor. "Our honored guest arrives."

The soldiers standing guard at the door turned and unsheathed their weapons on the Witcher. Marvo glanced around at his odds. Not good, enclosed space, vastly outnumbered, no weapons to speak of, surrounded by dimeritium.

"Where is Geralt!?" Marvo shouted.

Turnican's grin turned to a deep frown. "You want Geralt, is it? That is what this is about, one Witcher for another?"

"Geralt is coming with me." snarled Marvo, becoming impatient with the Redanian.

Turnican looked back at the group of soldiers and waved them away, all of them took a step backwards except one. This one soldier seemed taller than the rest and his helmeted head was tilted lazily to one side.

"Remove your helmet, son." Turnican ordered.

The soldier removed the steel helmet, revealing a head of white hair cut short and a beard of the same color. A scar down his right eye, his eyes as black as night. It was Geralt, but it also wasn't Geralt.

"Who are you?" Turnican asked.

"No one." Geralt replied.

"What is your purpose?"

Geralt lifted his sword and pointed it at Marvo. "Kill Witchers."

Marvo froze with fear. Turnican noticed this. "Then by all means, kill him."

Geralt charged forward as fast as any other Witcher. Marvo looked around for anything he could find to defend himself and had to settle on a torch that hung from the wall. As Geralt slashed through the air near Marvo's head, Marvo weaved out of his path and smashed the torch over Geralt's head.

The blow seemed to have no effect on the Witcher who only backhanded Marvo across the passage and against a wall with a solid _thud._ Geralt advanced on Marvo and swung his sword wildly at his neck. The younger Witcher ducked his head and narrowly avoided decapitation.

Marvo jumped to his feet, grabbed Geralt's sword arm and thrust it out to his side. With his free hand, Marvo began wailing on his former mentor's face. He landed several solid blows before Geralt began throwing his more powerful strikes.

Several feet from the epic brawl between Witchers, Turnican glanced around at his companions. "Let the Witchers kill each other. Come along."

Turnican turned and walked down the corridor with his troupe on his heels, leaving the Geralt to kill Marvo without audience. Geralt had managed to get a strong hand on the front of Marvo's stolen gorget that clung tightly to his throat and toss him backwards like a ragdoll. Marvo landed on one knee as Geralt swung his longsword over his head for a killing blow.

Marvo lashed out his lightly armored forearms and miraculously blocked the ferocious attack. Marvo locked his arms together, trapping Geralt's blade. Swinging his arms to one side, Marvo got the sword out of his way, spun around gracefully, and delivered two simultaneous backhands to the side of Geralt's head.

Geralt stumbled off tiredly. The young Witcher's defensive tactics had taken the old Witcher's stamina, Geralt stood in the middle of the corridor, breathing heavily but not saying anything. Marvo took a step forward, falling for the possum strategy.

Geralt lashed out with the sword, catching Marvo in the gap of his breastplate. The sword cut through muscle and tissue on Marvo's side, narrowly missing ribs and a lung. Blood poured out onto the blade and Marvo howled in pain.

Geralt withdrew the sword and Marvo dropped down to his knees, bruised, and nearly beaten. Again, Geralt lifted the sword above his head, sure that this time Marvo didn't have the strength to defend himself. Instead of a sword ending his life, a beam of yellow light appeared between the Witchers and Lady Yennefer stepped out.

Yen held up her hands and said an incantation Marvo couldn't hear over the roar of the portal but it made Geralt stop in his tracks, drop his sword, and fall to the stone floor. Triss and Ciri stepped out of the portal and it closed behind them.

Yen knelt beside Geralt while Triss and Ciri saw to Marvo. He was still on his knees and was still catching his breath.

Ciri knelt down in front of him and handed him a bottle. "Drink." she said.

Marvo looked down at the potion. It was a Swallow, to uplift him in his battered state. Marvo downed the potion and instantly felt much better.

"What did they do to him?" Marvo asked.

Yen shook her head as she stared down at the unconscious Geralt. "He's been under a chemically induced trance, susceptible to suggestion. Powerful alchemy."

"Can you reverse it?" Marvo asked, putting one arm around Ciri as she lifted him to his feet.

"I just did. That spell was the equivalent of hitting his head, very, very, very, hard. He might be out for some time." Yen replied. "Go get Turnican. I'll see to it that Ciri gets Geralt out of here."

Ciri's green eyes exploded with sudden rage. "What!? I should be here to help!"

"You are helping, take Geralt. Triss will get you two out. Marvo and I will end this." Yen said authoritatively.

Ciri looked to Marvo, Marvo nodded his response. With a reluctant sigh, she hugged Marvo and she and Triss hoisted Geralt up and walked out from the dungeons.

Marvo turned back to Yen and saw that she was holding a bundle of leather. She ripped the leather away to reveal twin swords. Ornate, the silver one was deeply engraved with a silver wolf on the pommel. The steel was curved less than a scythe but more than a sabre and was also engraved with the same words as the silver sword.

Marvo stepped towards Yen and the swords. "What do they say?"

"Legend." Yen said as she handed the two swords to him. "They were Geralt's. I don't think he could come up with someone more worthy of wielding them."

Marvo took the swords and strapped them to his back in the Witcher fashion. He thanked her and then moved off to the far door where Turnican had fled.

/

The duo soon reached an impasse. A door as wide as the one to the dungeons was. With his senses Marvo could tell that the door led to a second, forming a room in between them. What was on the other side of the second door was a mystery to him.

Marvo turned his head to look Yen in the eye. "Stay behind me, help me only if you think I'm going to die."

Yen rolled her violet eyes but nodded in agreement. Marvo pushed the door open. The room was poorly lit with shadows on all four sides that climbed up the wall and onto the ceiling. Marvo sensed the presence of two others. Their swords being drawn from scabbards on their backs. Their heart rates abnormally slow and their movements quick and swift. All signs pointed to one thing.

Marvo withdrew his sword. "Come out, brothers."

He had known since the cave but he had never, ever wanted it to be true. But, true enough, Wigro and Evyn stepped from the shadows, their weapons already poised to strike.

"It was you two wasn't it? You killed Arnley and Salac in that cave." Marvo said horsely, the words catching in his throat.

Wigro grinned maliciously. "You were next on our list."

Marvo's face turned grim. "Why? Witchers do not kill fellow Witchers."

"Says who? Vesemir? That old bastard got what was coming to him just as you will! You follow some code of honor." the once quiet Evyn spat angrily. "Fuck your honor, we are just inhuman mercenaries after all."

Marvo brought his sword to a defensive stance. "You are no Witchers. I won't even give you the courtesy of calling you equal opponents."

Wigro and Evyn brought their swords up as well. "Doesn't matter much to us."

As one, Marvo's former comrades launched themselves forward. Swinging their swords wildly without the finesse of better Witchers. Marvo easily parried each and every blow the two traitors threw at him. As he studied his enemies' weaknesses, he finally struck back, catching Evyn in his thigh.

Evyn yelped and backed away, leaving Wigro to fend for himself. Wigro blasted Marvo with an Igni but was deflected by Quen. Marvo's blade lashed out from the shield, swiftly nicking Wigro in the shoulders, chest, arms, and hands. Every little peck with the small of his blade drew Wigro closer and closer to dropping his sword.

Now, Marvo stood face to face with Wigro. And, he had no sword to speak of. Marvo held the point of his own sword to Wigro's neck.

"Marvo." Wigro gulped. "It was just a contract."

Marvo's yellow eyes narrowed. "Witchers don't beg."

Marvo cut off the coward's scream by severing his windpipe in half as the sword went through his Adam's apple and out the back of his head. Marvo took his blade from his neck to see Evyn advancing on him quickly. Before he struck, Evyn stopped and was lifted into the air by an unseen force.

Evyn's arms and legs twisted around and the bones in each shattered. Evyn screamed and was cut off as his torso quickly turned all the way around but his neck didn't. Evyn went limp and was dropped to the ground. His body contorted unnaturally so it seemed as if only his head was on backwards.

Yen stepped out with a calmed look on her face. "You said-"

Marvo stopped her. "I know what I said."

/

Ciri and Triss, with Geralt in between them reached a large hillside overlooking the fortress. The night was dark and the fort was illuminated brightly from the commotion inside. Ciri and Triss could hear men shouted orders and directions as the entire Knights of Roshytta force mobilized. Triss was grateful they'd managed to slip out undetected through a sewage passway but Ciri was still furious about leaving Marvo behind.

They reached the top of the hill and set Geralt down on the ground. He took a deep breath but other than that, he appeared to still be unconscious. Ciri turned back to the fortress and began walking back down the hill. Triss noticed her.

"Where are you going?" she called to her.

"We can't leave them!" Ciri shouted back as she walked.

Triss glanced down at Geralt then took off down the slope after Ciri. She caught up to the Elder Blood girl and grabbed her by the arm.

"I know it doesn't seem like much, but we are doing them more good here than we are there." Triss tried to reason with the young woman.

Ciri seemed unfazed by Triss' words and tried to push her way past her. Triss placed both hands on her shoulders and pushed her back.

"I know how much you care for Marvo and vice versa. Which is why I can't let you go back there. If you were overwhelmed, Marvo would be crushed, right now we need him badly."

Ciri's green eyes softened only a little and her gaze dropped to the grass beneath her boots. She threw her arms up in the air. "Fine." she said, still angered by the situation.

They reached the top of the hill to see a dark figure standing over Geralt's unconscious body. The figure turned and saw Triss and Yen standing there. Without a word, the figure erupted into a mass of black feathers and lunged at them through the air. Ciri and Triss both jumped out of the way as the creature landed behind them.

It stood up and turned back to them. It's face was hideous but the uneven locks of silver hair gave it away, Dendri. He had suffered the same fate as Geralt. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, a second creature attacked from behind them with a large battleaxe.

Ciri swiftly brought forth Zirael and the two weapons clashed. She came face to face with an even uglier monster and it smiled maliciously at her.

"Pretty girls!" the creature shrieked. "Undrag wants fuck!"

Ciri's only response was to retreat at the Undrag's horribly bad breath. Almost as if he'd eaten a whole sewer rat, then washed it down with liquid shit. Her foot lashed out and caught the ghoulish man in the groin. Undrag howled and stumbled backwards.

Behind her, Triss came under attack again by Dendri. All his changeling abilities were on display as he consecutively changed from raven to lion, then to wolf and hawk. Triss' sorceress abilities were doing their best to combat the swift motions but Dendri was only slightly faster, his pecs as birds and his claws and bites as animals proved too much for her and she was forced to retreat from him.

Triss and Ciri found themselves back to back on the defensive. Undrag had gained the upper hand on her and Dendri was slowly approaching them, as if poised for a final strike. Suddenly, a fifth combatant came up behind Undrag and slit the freak's throat. Holding Undrag's limp body as a shield, he fired a small crossbow which whistled past Triss and Ciri's heads and landed directly in Dendri's forehead.

Both minions of Turnican fell to the grassy hillside as Triss and Ciri looked to see who their savior was. Geralt dropped the knife and crossbow and once again dropped to the ground, weakened, but not defeated. Triss and Ciri ran to his side.

Triss propped Geralt up on her arms. He smiled faintly. "I want to throw up right now."

Triss glanced at Ciri. "Not yet, Geralt."

/

Marvo knelt beside the bodies of his other two childhood friends. He still couldn't believe they'd betray the fragile brotherhood all Witchers share. Seeing their faces as he had been forced to slaughter them would haunt him more than the young face of Angella all those years ago.

"Marvo?" Yen asked, standing behind him. "I'm confused, Geralt has told me that Witchers don't feel. Only, in our time as allies, I've witnessed you convey more emotion than Geralt ever did."

Marvo stood up and turned to face her, shaking his head, he said. "Rumors. Geralt would have you believe they take all our feelings, they only dampen them. To arise in moments where emotion is an option, it's why I did not hesitate to kill them, but now I am filled with shame for it."

"Have things like this happened before?"

Marvo gave her a long sullen silence. "Once. 12 years ago, I was fooled into murdering a young girl. While doing it, I knew something was wrong but I killed her anyway. It was only after I split her ruthless father's skull did I truly contemplate what I had done." he glanced at the far door. "Now is not the time for further detail, we kill Turnican now."

Yen nodded in agreement, noticing his tone change as his mind returned to their task. He had been speaking truthfully and emotionally.

The duo walked to the door, ready for a fight. Marvo drew a steel sword and Yen prepared an incantation to assist them in battle. The barged the wide door open and swiftly moved inside, expecting a large escort of mailed knights and footsoldiers. Instead, only Turnican stood alone in his office.

Well, alone as in the only _alive_ man in the room. His entire escort was dead. Hanging on the ceiling by various strands of innard and intestine in a demonic spider web. Turnican sat cross legged on the floor in front of a long desk, a giant sinister smile on his handsome face.

"Do you know what I am? I understand you have an extensive knowledge of Witcher bestiaries." Turnican asked calmly.

Marvo shrugged. "You look human, but these tendencies are like that of a…" he trailed off. Realizing the detail. "I don't know."

"Ha!" Turnican exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "I'm special? You know, my dear mother was raped by a Sentient of unknown origin. When I came of age, after I'd murdered an entire village with this affliction, I joined the Redanian army. I see my condition as a curse, a beneficial one mind you, but a curse nonetheless."

"I despise nonhumans, Marvo of Claremont and Lady Yennefer of Vengerberg. I despise them because I am one of them. A halfling sired by a monster. I swore before the King that I'd slaughter every nonhuman who stood in my way."

Turnican pointed his sword at them. "And that means you."

From his pocket, he brought out the vial of black liquid. "This kept me from showing what I truly was. No more. Fight fire with fire, so to speak."

Turnican dropped the vial on the stone floor and it shattered. The liquid oozed from the broken glass. It spread out slowly, almost like tar. Turnican began to grunt wildly. He let go of his sword and dropped to his knees. Turnican put both hands on his head as claws sprung from his fingers. Scales in shades of greens, browns, yellows, and even blacks dotted his skin as the clothing began tearing away under the pressure of his expanding body.

Grotesque spines sprouted along his back and his face twisted into a lizard like snout. His eyes became black as night. Turnican, or what he had let out stood up at full height. He was nearly eight feet tall and he was hunching. He tore away the remaining clothes, revealing the full body of reptilian scales underneath.

A deep rattle sounded at the base of his throat. "I will be the death of you, freaks. Then, I kill the other sorceress and the little bitch Cirilla."

Marvo promptly put away the steel and brought out the silver. "Come on then. We'll kill you first."

The Rampant laughed gutturally. "I won't fight you both. I've not flexed these muscles for quite some time. Cat!" he called.

None other the Cat of Cintra, Sonfrith bounded from the shadows. His yellow eyes focused on Marvo.

"You've got to be shitting." Sonfrith said. "You're still alive?"

Marvo returned a glare to Sonfrith of Cintra. "How did I not guess you'd betrayed us like Wigro and Evyn?"

Sonfrith stood up to his full height beside the Rampant. "You need to trust someone to be betrayed. Honestly Marvo, You were a fool to trust me. As was the old man Vesemir."

Marvo calmly glanced at Yen. "Think you could handle him?"

Yen studied him up and down. "Like swatting a fly."

Marvo shrugged. "Or a 215 pound cat."

Yen's hands burst into flame and she took a step in the direction of Sonfrith. Sonfrith crouched down as if he were to pounce, still embodying the School of the Cat. She hurled a ball of fire at him and he dodged it easily. Their battle continued on the far side of the room, leaving Marvo to deal with the Rampant.

The Rampant lunged at him, hissing like a snake as it bellowed towards him at more superior speeds than him. Marvo sidestepped the monster but was grabbed by the shoulder as it ran by. The two adversaries smashed through the wide door and back into the first room with Wigro and Evyn's corpses.

Marvo had no choice but to slash wildly to escape it's grasp. The blade scraped against the scaled breast of the Rampant. He squealed in pain and twisted around like a crocodile in water, smothering his prey. Marvo's sword was wrenched from his hands and over the guttural sounds Turnican was making Marvo could hear it clatter far from him.

Eventually, the Rampant tossed Marvo aside like a girl discarding a doll. He crashed to the floor on his side. Marvo could sense something inside him was broken but he couldn't relent now. He got to his feet and faced the Rampant, which stood on the other side of the room near a simple wooden table.

Marvo bent over and picked up his sword, never taking his eyes of the Rampant for a moment. The Rampant turned to the table and lifted it over his head with one arm and flung it at Marvo. Marvo took off running towards the Rampant, regardless of the table.

As it neared the floor and him, Marvo dropped to the ground in mid-sprint and slid under it. He rolled on his shoulder and bounded to his feet in a mere second of motion, catching the Rampant off guard.

Marvo plunged the silver into Turnican's stomach. Turnican's reptilian mouth shifted into a sort of twisted grin.

" _That the best you got?"_ it hissed, unimpressed.

/

Yen dropped to knees warily. She was covered in cuts and bruises from the attacks inflicted by Sonfrith. Now, the former Witcher stood over her with a dagger at her throat. She stared up at him defiantly, this did not impress Sonfrith at all.

"You are a pretty woman, Lady Yennefer. A shame, I do have to kill you." his raspy tone said.

"Then do it already." She shot back.

Sonfrith's grip tightened on the knife. Only for a moment did he hesitate. In all his years, no victim of his didn't beg for life, she asked for it. Sonfrith frowned.

"No." he said. "You could be a far better opportunity to me alive, or at least mostly."

Yen cocked an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Sonfrith chuckled. "Only certain people I've come into contact with over the years. People who make a living peddling people like you."

"Sorcerer slavers? Really?"

"Not exactly. There is a growing market for sorceresses out there. More of a fetish, really. Apparently, they like a little sorceress ass-"

Sonfrith didn't finish. Yen had gotten him talking long enough to prepare a spell silently. While he was distracted, rambling on about sorceress whores, she managed to knock his arm away from her throat. Sonfrith, even as agile as he couldn't react in time. Yen placed both hands on his chest and said the incantation as fast as she could.

A force similar to Aard only more contained and far more powerful. With a single motion, Sonfrith's entire torso burst apart. His arms and legs severed from the blow and dropped to the ground as his torso, head, and shoulders flew across the room.

Yen took a sigh of relief that he was finally dead. She collapsed on her back and stared up at the dim ceiling.

"I'm too aged for this shit." she said to herself. Surprising even herself that she was capable of cursing.

/

Marvo climbed onto the Rampant's back, stabbing it repeatedly to little effect. It mainly served the purpose of pissing it off. The Rampant reached behind itself, grabbed Marvo and threw him down to the floor.

" _You are weak, Marvo of Claremont. Weakness means death."_ Turnican hissed.

The Rampant lifted it's right three toed foot and tried to stomp his head in and finish it all, but Witchers don't give up that easy. Marvo, still holding his sword with an iron grip brought it to his chest and allowed the monster's foot to plunge into it and come out the other side with a spurt of dark purple blood.

The Rampant shrieked and backed away, favoring it's right leg. Marvo balanced himself on his sword and climbed to his feet. Every single part of his body screamed in pain but somewhere in his mind, he knew he couldn't stop until this thing was dead or he was.

Marvo yelled with ferocity and sprinted towards the Rampant with his sword over his head. The Rampant lifted it's arm to block the attack but Marvo began hacking it at it with powerful strikes. Eventually, the entire arm cleaved off and fell to the floor.

The monster's remaining arm backhanded him away a short distance. The strike was so weak that Marvo knew he was running out of energy he couldn't recover at this point. Again, Marvo got to his feet and lunged towards the Rampant. Dodging another backhand, Marvo spun around and reached way up and caught Turnican across the throat.

The Rampant stumbled around a bit before collapsing to it's knees. The spines fell away, the scales disappeared and his face returned to normal. Now, the real Turnican emerged. Beaten, broken, and somehow still alive with a slit throat that was bleeding heavily and pouring down his bare chest. The only thing monstrous about him was the dull claws on one hand that remained.

Marvo walked up to him and fell to his knees in front of Turnican. Turnican chuckled. "After all that, this is how it ends? Two titans fighting to the death?"

Marvo shook his head. "I'm not a titan. I just came here to save a friend, you just got in my way."

Turnican chuckled. "Go on then, finish me."

Marvo groaned in pain and picked up his sword again. Grabbing Turnican with one arm around the back of his neck, Marvo plunged the sword into his stomach and out the other side.

Turnican grinned his bloody and broken teeth. Marvo realized it too late. Turnican lifted his still clawed hand and plunged them into Marvo's stomach. Now, the two combatants sat there, staring at each other as the realization set in. Neither of them was leaving this place.

Marvo pulled out his sword and Turnican collapsed to the ground finally dead. Marvo's fresh wound was now bleeding heavily. Behind him, Yen burst in at a very quick pace. She saw Marvo kneeling in front of Turnican's body and ran to him.

Yen grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to lift him to his feet. "We need to go. His soldiers are coming."

Marvo winced and shook his head. "I can't. Go."

Yen slapped him. "You need to see Ciri again!" she screamed. "Now get up!"

Marvo pushed her away and stood up on his own. He looked in her violet eyes with his own. "Remember what I said about emotion?" he brought his sword up in a defensive stance.

Outside the far doors, he could hear a large number of men waiting to storm their way in and kill them both. The number of them was going to overpower them.

"Tell Ciri…" he said slowly. "Tell her, I love her. Now and always." Marvo finished.

A tear fell down Yen's cheek. "You're going to tell her yourself!" she shouted.

The soldiers began barging on the large door. It wouldn't hold for very long.

Marvo grabbed her by the shoulder and squeezed her tight. "If I don't do this, you die too. No matter what, I will not let that happen. Now go!" he shouted at her.

Without another word of protest, a portal opened behind Yen and she stepped through to safety. Marvo sighed deeply and turned back to the door as the soldiers broke through. There were dozens of them. Marvo had faced worse odds but he was critically wounded. This would buy the others time to escape to a safe distance.

His mind blanked out. His mind empty as Marvo charged forward to certain death. As he reached the soldiers, he swung at them, killing several with one blow. With his spare hand, he casted signs left and right. Many soldiers lay dead around him but from the door ahead, Marvo could see even more coming. Never ending. His energy was draining, blood that was his and wasn't his poured down his face and his eyes. Marvo felt a sword slither into his ribs and another into his spine. Regardless of the pain, Marvo still swung his sword at the enemy.

Now, maybe 20 men had fallen to the Witcher. He had no energy left. Marvo collapsed to one knee, still swinging with one hand as more and more blades cut into his body. He dropped his sword as it became dull and began punching wildly. One last burst of energy sounded by a long and haunting scream from the Witcher's bloodied mouth. He bit and kicked his way into the center of their group.

Finally, the several swords, spears, axes, shields, pikes, daggers, fists, and even eating forks brought the Witcher down to his back. They all crowded around, stabbing him until they were certain he was finally vanquished. As the fighting stopped, the soldiers looked around. Dozens of them lay dead at the hands of a wounded Witcher.

Each soldier took off their steel helmets as they stood over Marvo's body, completely ignoring their leader's corpse. They all had found new respect for the warrior. The Redanians picked Marvo up and hoisted him over their heads. The group moved through the corridors of the fortress until their reached the forest. Together, they buried the Witcher in an unmarked grave deep in the wood where he would finally rest in peace.

/

Yen stumbled through the portal to see Ciri and Triss kneeling on either side of Geralt who was very much conscious. Ciri saw her first and jumped to her feet. She saw the portal close and no one else had came through.

"Marvo?" Ciri asked.

Yen's eyes fell to the ground. "We're alive because of him."

"No…" Ciri breathed. Big tears welled in her eyes and for the first time in her life, Ciri wept openly in front of Geralt, Triss, and the gods.

Geralt got to his feet and enclosed Ciri in his big arms. "I'm sorry." he said simply.

Triss put her arms around Ciri as well. "Come on. Let's go home."

/

 **20 Years Later…**

Well, dear readers. That is his story. Marvo of Claremont was born to peasants in the forest and conscripted by Geralt of Rivia into the ancient order of Witchers. For 26 years, Marvo fought with arguably more ferocity than Geralt himself. He defeated the Scorched Knight at the Battle of the Pontar and infiltrated the base of the Knights of Roshytta, killing their half breed commander Sir Adius Turnican. Even found love in the unlikely Cirilla.

His legacy lives on now. Remembered as he lived and idolized as he died. In his honor, Geralt has taken permanent residence in Kaer Morhen, training a new generation of Witchers. Kaer Morhen is now known as Kaer Marvo to many. Cirilla has grown in age, but she has never loved after Marvo's death.

I write this story to shed more light on the epic tale that was Marvo of Claremont's heroic sacrifice. Unlike my other work, none of this is fantasized and is told exactly as it happened from the lips and pen of a man who was there and experienced it all.

I am old now, I will soon pass on. So, I give you this gift, the gift of knowledge. So that we aspire to reach the heights of Marvo's legacy.

My name is Julian Alfred Pankratz viscount de Lettenhove, others know me as Dandelion. This is my life's greatest work, and now it is at a close.


End file.
